


Sebastian/Stefano Whumptober Shorts

by DetectiveSebCas



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Abduction, Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, Beating, Betrayal, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Drowning, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Eye Trauma, Hand Jobs, Insomnia, M/M, Near Death, Non-Consensual Bondage, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Stabbing, Strangulation, Suicidal Thoughts, Terminal Illnesses, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:57:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 32,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16217597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveSebCas/pseuds/DetectiveSebCas
Summary: A collection of Sebastian/Stefano shorts for the Whumptober prompts.  See chapter titles for prompts and chapter summaries for specific warnings.Unless otherwise noted, these shorts are stand-alones and not related to my other stories.





	1. Day 1- Stabbed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: stabbing, stitches

 

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sebastian snaps, jumping out of Stefano’s reach.  Even though he is relieved that they’ve found a first aid kit well-stocked enough to include suture materials, he is less than thrilled to see them being wielded by the man responsible for his injury.

 

“Come now,” Stefano says, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian as he advances on him.  “Surely a big, brave man like you isn’t afraid of a little needle.”

 

Sebastian actually is deathly afraid of needles, but this really isn’t the time for that.  He’s managed to endure the upgrade chair and stabbing himself with the mysterious syringes he finds lying around all over STEM, so this shouldn’t be any different.  Except that now Stefano is the one holding the needle, and Stefano’s clear enjoyment of the situation is very unsettling.

 

“How do I know you’re even qualified to do this?” Sebastian asks, taking another step backward.  Unfortunately his progress is halted abruptly when the backs of his knees hit the edge of a desk chair.  He collapses into it, leaving the perfect opening for Stefano to step forward and place a hand on his shoulder.

 

“I made Obscura,” Stefano says, as though this should be proof enough.

 

“Oh, great,” Sebastian replies, making no effort to hide his sarcasm.  “I hope I turn out that well.”  He attempts to use his foot to roll the chair backward away from Stefano, but Stefano simply walks along with him wearing an indulgent smirk.

 

“Sebastian,” he says, as he strips Sebastian’s shirt off over his head.  “You cannot go on like this.  You are losing too much blood.”

 

Sebastian hates to admit it, but Stefano is right.  Stefano is also entirely at fault here, as the wound resulted from a well-aimed survival knife.  It didn’t seem especially serious at first, but with time and exertion, the blood loss is starting to get to him, and he hasn’t picked up a syringe in hours.  Now half of his shirt is soaked in blood, and he is feeling more light-headed by the minute.  It’s only a matter of time before he makes a mistake, and mistakes are costly in STEM.

 

With no syringe in sight, Stefano’s suggestion that they close the wound with a first aid kit is the best idea Sebastian can think of at the moment, though he has some lingering questions about Stefano’s qualifications.  He also has some lingering questions about why Stefano now seems to be helping him, though apparently this isn’t the time for those either.

 

Stefano takes advantage of this moment of distraction to seat himself firmly in Sebastian’s lap, and the needle is biting into his skin before he even realizes what’s happening.

 

“Fuck,” he groans, because even with all of the other shit he’s gone through today, the sharp pain lights up all of his nerve endings.

 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Stefano says, though his voice takes on a softer, more soothing quality.  He ties off the first suture.

 

“I’m not being- Shit!” Sebastian yelps as the needle sinks in for the second time.  He gasps for breath before he continues, “I’m not being dramatic.  That really hurts!”

 

“Does it?” Stefano says with mild interest.  “But you are willing to suffer to save your daughter, are you not?”

 

“That’s-” Sebastian’s words turn into a grunt as Stefano makes his third pass with needle, and if Stefano didn’t have him so thoroughly pinned, he would have jumped out of the chair.  “That’s not the point.  I’ll suffer if I have to, but you could be a little more gentle.”

 

Stefano pauses in his work, sits back to look into Sebastian’s face, and brings his thankfully needle-free hand to Sebastian’s cheek.  His visible eye scrutinizes Sebastian, and Sebastian has the sudden, bizarre feeling that Stefano might be about to kiss him.

 

“If that is what you want, Sebastian, then yes, of course I can be gentle,” Stefano says, his voice markedly softer now, intimate in a way that suggests they aren’t simply talking about medical care anymore.  They hold eye contact, the tension rising until Stefano breaks it with a little smirk and turns his attention back to Sebastian’s wound.

 

Sebastian is quite literally speechless, but at least Stefano does seem to be handling him more gently.  The needle still stings of course, but Stefano’s movements are careful, calculated, and mercifully quick.  Absent the jarring pain of Stefano’s earlier technique, Sebastian is finding himself more and more distracted by Stefano’s warm weight in his lap, Stefano’s hands brushing against his skin, and the occasional puffs of breath he feels on his face and neck as Stefano works.  Before he has even fully contemplated what all of that means, the remaining stitches are in place, and Stefano is back on his feet and admiring his work.

 

“Much better,” he says.  “Now you will surely live long enough to experience a horrible, gangrenous death.”

 

Sebastian laughs, then remembers that Stefano has been on the battlefield and might not actually be joking.  “Wait, really?”

 

Stefano laughs, deep and rich.  “I doubt it very much.  Disease seems to be exceedingly rare in Union.”  He hands Sebastian his shirt.  “That wasn’t so terrible, was it?”

 

Even when Stefano is in a helpful mood, his condescending tone is starting to wear on Sebastian.  “Well maybe if you hadn’t thrown a knife at me in the first place, we wouldn’t have had to do this at all,” he retorts, struggling back into his shirt.

 

“You did find it useful though, did you not?” Stefano asks as he pokes around in the remains of the first aid kit.

 

“Find what useful?” Sebastian asks.

 

“The knife,” Stefano says, an impatient edge to his voice.  “You needed a knife, and I gave you one.  I can’t be held responsible for your poor hand-eye coordination.”

 

Sebastian is aching to make a depth perception joke, but Stefano is already picking up his camera and opening the door to head back into Union.

 

 

 


	2. Day 2- Bloody Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- blood, feels

 

 

The first time Stefano comes home with blood on his hands, Sebastian convinces himself that he’s seeing things.  He’s been working overtime lately, and he’s under a lot of stress, and it’s really only just a few patches of reddish-brown around Stefano’s fingernails.  It’s not what it looks like.  It’s his mind playing tricks on him, a tiny glimpse of the man Stefano used to be.

 

“Missed you,” Sebastian says, rising from the dining room table to kiss him on the cheek.  Stefano has been spending more and more time at his studio lately, and Sebastian feels his absence like an empty space inside him.

 

Stefano doesn’t speak, just briefly embraces Sebastian and goes into the kitchen to wash his hands.  Sebastian returns to the case file he is studying, and a half-hour later Stefano is shooing him away from the table so that he can set it for dinner, and all is forgotten.

 

The second time is harder to justify, because Stefano isn’t acting like himself at all.  He comes in the door with a furtive glance at Sebastian, which he quickly turns into a smile when he realizes that Sebastian’s eyes are on him.

 

“Good evening,” Stefano says.  There is an edge to his voice, a sharpness that Sebastian can’t quite place.  All of Sebastian’s alarm bells are going off, but he almost got shot today when he walked up on a robbery in progress, so of course his nerves are a little frayed.  He takes a deep breath.

 

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asks Stefano, nodding at Stefano’s hands, which are clenched shut and held tightly at his sides.

 

Stefano looks like a deer in headlights.  “No,” he says finally.  He turns and goes into the bathroom, and Sebastian hears the water running.  When he comes out, Sebastian has already started making dinner and opened a bottle of wine, and the conversation turns to lighter topics.  It wasn’t really that much blood anyway, Sebastian tells himself.  It could have come from anywhere.

 

The third time is impossible to ignore.  Stefano closes the door, locks it behind him, and turns to face Sebastian, eye wide, pupil blown out, and every muscle in his body practically vibrating with tension.  Sebastian takes a step forward and opens his mouth to ask what the hell is going on, but Stefano is already on him, slamming him up against the wall and thrusting his tongue roughly into Sebastian’s mouth.

 

Sebastian’s adrenaline is running high, and, distracted as he is by Stefano’s knee pressing between his legs and Stefano’s teeth digging into his lower lip and the little moans Stefano makes as he probes his mouth with his tongue, it takes him a few seconds to remember the reason why he was upset when he saw Stefano in the first place.

 

He puts his hands on Stefano’s chest and pushes him back, not so hard as to hurt him, but firmly enough to break the spell of whatever sexual frenzy has overcome him.  Stefano’s hands are indeed stained with crimson, which stands out starkly on Sebastian’s white shirt where Stefano has been holding his upper arms.  Sebastian glances back up at Stefano’s face.  Stefano blinks at him, looking dazed for a moment before his eye locks back on to Sebastian, burning with hunger and need.

 

“What happened?” Sebastian asks.

 

“You would not like to hear the answer to that question,” Stefano says, his voice shaking the same way his body shakes, not with fear or cold, but with the tension of a coiled spring.

 

“I have to know the answer to that question, Stefano,” Sebastian presses.  Surely there is an explanation for this.  Stefano has changed since Union.  He is in control of his darker impulses, and there is no way he would risk everything by doing something like this.

 

Stefano takes a half-step forward, eye boring into Sebastian.  “I was making art,” he breathes.  “The most glorious tableau you can imagine.”  His hands move to cup Sebastian’s face, and Sebastian has to suppress a flinch at the damp, slightly sticky feeling of the cooling blood on his cheeks.  “The most magnificent-”

 

“God damn it Stefano!” snarls Sebastian, giving Stefano another shove, this one hard enough to send him staggering back.  “We talked about this!”

 

“No,” Stefano says coldly as he regains his feet.  “You talked about this.  You told me that I was not myself before, that I was corrupted by STEM.  You told me that everything would be fine.”

 

“And everything is fine!” Sebastian shoots back, his voice rising almost to a shout.  “Everything was fine until you…”  He stops suddenly, because Stefano is looking back at him with interest.  He is no longer in the hyper-focused, sexually aggressive state of just a few seconds ago.  He doesn’t even look angry.  His face is unreadable, and that is what finally breaks Sebastian.

 

“Until you…” Sebastian tries again, but there is nothing left to say.

 

All of the anger drains out of him, and he drops to his knees, because Stefano is still the same man who kidnapped his daughter in STEM, and Stefano is going to ruin everything, and Stefano doesn’t even care.  Their little family and their quiet house and all of the moments in all of the years they’ve spent together mean nothing.  _Lies.  All lies._

 

And what bothers Sebastian more than anything, what makes him bury his face in his hands and struggle to hold back tears, isn’t the loss of life or the implications for his career or even a concern for his own safety, but the thought of losing Stefano.

 

There is a hand on his shoulder, a voice in his ear as Stefano crouches down beside him.  “I cannot be someone I am not.”  There is a hint of something in his voice.  Sebastian wants it to be regret.

 

He raises his head and nods through the tears, because Stefano is right of course.  What Sebastian doesn’t understand is why he no longer recognizes himself.

 

 

 


	3. Day 3- Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- insomnia, PTSD, depression

 

 

Stefano has told him stories about men who never came back from the war, stories of empty coffins and empty beds and vacant eyes.

 

When Sebastian lies down to sleep, he smells fire, the thick, acrid smoke in his nostrils.  He fights it off, ignores it for a while, because he knows it isn’t real.  He waits, smoke filling his lungs, until Stefano has pulled the blankets all around them and nestled against his body.  He waits until Stefano has kissed him on the mouth, long and slow and sweet, all the while struggling not to gasp for air.  He waits, chest heavy and half-suffocating, until Stefano’s breaths have become deep and even, and then he waits a few more minutes before he eases out of their bed.

 

He waits because he knows that if he told Stefano any of this, Stefano would sit up with him and hold him and whisper reassurances in his ear.  Stefano may not understand how Sebastian feels, or be capable of having those feelings himself, but he has learned over time how to comfort Sebastian.  No matter how much Sebastian craves that comfort right now, there is no point in both of them being up all night.

 

His first stop is always at the door to Lily’s room.  His hand tells his brain the doorknob is white hot.  His brain tells his hand that’s impossible.  He turns the knob and quietly opens the door a few inches.  Lily is sleeping peacefully, as she always is.  Sebastian is both relieved and a little jealous that she seems to be undamaged by her time in STEM.  Perhaps her young mind is more resilient, or maybe he is just weak.

 

He allows himself one minute, actually counts off sixty seconds in his head before he closes the door, phantom flames still crackling in his ears.  He used to stand here and watch her for hours, but even he knows that wasn’t healthy.  Now he must find other ways to occupy his time.

 

He shuffles down the hall, trying not to look too long at any of the corners or doorways, because if he does that, he can convince himself that something is waiting for him there, some nightmare from Beacon or Union, some demon he hasn’t had the courage to face.  And those demons are still in here somewhere, not in the house, but inside Sebastian.

 

He takes the stairs slowly, trying to avoid the loud ones, and pauses when he gets to the living room to listen.  A dog barks outside, the refrigerator hums, but no one inside the house stirs.

 

Stefano has told him stories about men who never came back from the war, men who never let their guard down, men who never sleep.  In STEM, there was no need for sleep, no time for sleep.  His body hasn’t adjusted to this world, even though it’s the one he has lived in for most of his life.

 

He goes to his study, to the gun safe in the closet, and opens it.  He picks up his revolver- finger off the trigger of course- just to feel the weight of it in his hand, but it doesn’t scratch the itch that is building inside him.  He longs to fire, not at the range for practice, but in the heat of combat.  He longs to struggle, to come within an inch of death before he can grab a syringe and heal himself.  He longs to scrounge for ammunition, dashing from one point of cover to the next, avoiding traps as he gets closer to his goal.

 

And there is the heart of the matter: what goal does he have now?  What is there to strive for?  He is perfectly content with the life he has, but he doesn’t want to be content.  What is wrong with him that he is wishing for the terror and turmoil of STEM when he could be spending a quiet night with the two people he loves most in this world.

 

He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the window, the only recognizable shape in the darkness beyond.  Acting on impulse, he raises the gun and points it at the figure he sees there.  His finger twitches toward the trigger, and he wants to pull it, wants to see the glass shatter along with the weak, faded image of himself, of who he has become in this world where nothing challenges him.

 

The moment passes, and he lowers the gun.  After a few more moments, a few more breaths, another lungful of smoke, he goes to his safe and puts the gun away.  He is a man of action, but there is no need for action tonight.

 

He climbs the stairs, once again taking care to move quietly, and peeks in on Lily one more time to find her still asleep.  It brings some satisfaction to know that this is the life Lily needs, the life Lily deserves, even as it slowly drains away his will to live with every passing day.

 

He closes her door and creeps back to his room.  The opportunity to move with stealth is welcome, but it lacks the urgency that would make it fulfilling.

 

He pauses for one more glance out the window before he returns to his bed, one more look at the perfectly organized, maddeningly quiet neighborhood with its neat houses and trees.  Just for a moment, he yearns to see fire, to see chunks of the street floating in midair, to see monsters out there instead of just inside his head.

 

The smell of smoke is heavy as he lies down, careful not to shift the bed too much.  Stefano still senses him though, still moves toward him subconsciously, wrapping his arms around Sebastian’s chest and sighing contentedly in his sleep.  Sebastian only stares at the ceiling.

 

Stefano has told him stories about men who never came back from the war.  Sebastian just never thought he would be one of them.

 

 

 


	4. Day 4- "No, stop!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- non-con, eye trauma, prostitution, drug use, hurt/no comfort, Stefano/others
> 
> This short takes place in the Soft Focus universe before Stefano meets Sebastian, so no Sebastian in this story.

 

 

Stefano remembers the first time he tried to refuse one of Slade’s clients.  It was years ago, when he thought he had retained some kind of agency in his life, when he thought he had a choice.  The memory is vivid.

 

“No, stop!”  He knows as soon as the words are out of his mouth that he’s made a terrible mistake, but the client is already storming out of the room to find one of Slade’s men.  Stefano sits naked on the floor, shoulders hunched and arms crossed over his chest, waiting, knowing that the client will have his way in the end.

 

The floor under him vibrates with heavy footsteps, distinct from the pulsing music of the party below, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know when Riker enters the room with the client on his heels.

 

“My apologies,” Riker says to the client as he closes the door.  “He’s new.”

 

“I paid for him!” says the client, the agitation audible in his voice even through the haze of drugs and alcohol.  “Can’t you make him behave?”

 

Stefano stares straight ahead.  He is used to people talking about his as though he isn’t present.

 

“Yes,” Riker replies, voice low and dangerous.  “I can.”

 

Stefano shudders involuntarily as Riker draws near and drops down to one knee on the floor behind him.

 

“Now, Stefano,” Riker says in a soft kind of sing-song way, “we don’t want to upset this nice man, do we?”

 

Stefano steels himself, forces himself not to react, even though Riker’s voice so close to his ear chills him to his very core.

 

“Not going to cooperate?” Riker asks.  “That’s alright then.  I’ll help you.”

 

Riker takes Stefano’s head in his large hands, one at his forehead sweeping the hair out of his face and one under his chin, and pulls Stefano back against his chest.

 

“Alright,” he says to the client.  “Go ahead.  I’ve got him.”

 

“He’s not going to bite me, is he?” the client asks as he circles around in front of Stefano, stumbling a little from the influence of the drugs.

 

“No,” Riker says, though apparently even he isn’t sure, because he adjusts the hand under Stefano’s chin to cover his mouth.

 

The client gives his cock a couple of tugs and steps in close, apparently unconcerned about his proximity to Riker as he fumbles for Stefano’s eye socket.  His hips jerk and he moans at even the slightest contact as his cock rubs across Stefano’s face, until it finally comes to rest against the place where his right eye used to be.

 

Stefano closes his good eye and braces himself.  He feels lightheaded, wishes he could actually faint, because he detests this act like nothing else.  He would rather service this man and a dozen of his friends, would rather be stretched open beyond his limits by one of those curious amateurs who just wants to see what his body is capable of, would rather endure all of the pain and humiliation that Riker dishes out, than have his eye socket penetrated just once.

 

Then the man’s hips are pressing forward, and Stefano reflexively tries to jerk back, but he’s pinned against Riker’s shoulder with nowhere to go.  He can feel the tissue inside his head stretching and splitting apart, like a white-hot knife being forced into an open wound, making way for something that shouldn’t be there.

 

He tries to gasp, to breathe through the pain, but Riker’s hand is firmly over his mouth, and he can only breathe hard through his nose, which is making him even more lightheaded.  This has to stop.  This man can’t go any further without damaging something irreparably because there is just no place for any more of him to go. 

 

Stefano’s stomach heaves, and he fears he may actually vomit, but just at that moment the man bottoms out, pressed fully against Stefano’s face.  The man’s hands are fisted in his hair, and he sighs in a disgustingly satisfied sort of way before he begins to thrust.

 

Stefano feels Riker’s hands on his face, holding him securely, and Riker’s body behind his, supporting him as the man’s weight presses against him over and over.  He doesn’t let himself feel the way the man’s cock forces its way into his eye socket again and again, doesn’t let himself feel the tearing, the bruising, the already damaged tissue giving way to such a violent intrusion.

 

“That’s better.”  Riker’s voice is a low rumble in his ear, too soft for the client to hear him.  “That’s a good little slut.  Keep it up, and I’ll have a treat for you later.”

 

The man finishes soon, jerking forward one last time with a grunt and releasing his hot, stinging seed into Stefano’s throbbing eye socket.  Stefano simply goes limp as the man pulls out, allows himself to be lifted into Riker’s arms and carried from the room with surprising gentleness.

 

A minute later, he is being set on his feet in one of Slade’s bathrooms.  He opens his eye, the one that isn’t alight with pain, and his heart starts to beat faster, because Riker is laying out a line of white powder on the counter for him.

 

“Take it,” Riker urges.  “You’ve got at least five more rooms to cover tonight.”

 

Stefano nods and snorts the line, embracing the fuzzy, apathetic feeling that fills him, numbs him, even when Riker bends him over sink and flushes out his eye socket, then inspects him for any other damage before rearranging his hair and delivering him to his next client.

 

It's not until hours later, when he collapses onto his own mattress, that he lets himself feel again, lets the pain and the exhaustion and the despair wash over him.  But at least he is in his own room with the prospect of rest.

 

Heavy footsteps approach, and the mattress dips down behind him.  A large hand strokes his hair.

 

“No,” Stefano whispers.  “Stop.”  Riker only laughs.

 

 

 


	5. Day 5- Poisoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- vomiting (other than that, it's actually pretty fluffy)

 

 

The tile floor of the bathroom is hard under Stefano’s knees as he gasps for breath, hoping against hope that it’s over.  He rests his head on his forearm for a moment, as distasteful as it is to be so close to his own vomit, because he is exhausted and miserable and alone, as he has been for the last hour.  His stomach gives a treacherous twitch, and he freezes, holds perfectly still, wills his body not to put him through any more of this tonight, but apparently it’s not enough.  He heaves again and leans forward as another wave of nausea rolls over him.

 

“Stefano?”

 

It’s Sebastian’s worried voice that he hears, but he cannot raise his head for fear of vomiting somewhere that is not the toilet.

 

“Stefano.”  This time his name is soft and soothing, and close to his ear.  Sebastian’s hand comes to rest gently on his lower back where the sweat is already soaking through his dress shirt.  Stefano spits out a few more strands of bile and waits, muscles quivering, to see if there is going to be any more, but things seem to have calmed down for the moment.

 

He looks over his shoulder at Sebastian.  “I thought you went to the party?”  He barely recognizes his own voice, hoarse and broken as it is.

 

“I did, but you weren’t answering your phone,” Sebastian says.  “And I guess I got a little worried.”  He flushes the toilet and then stands up, filling a glass of water at the sink.

 

“What about Lily?” Stefano croaks before taking the glass of water Sebastian offers him.

 

“She’s fine,” Sebastian says.  “She’s with Amanda’s mom.  I’ll pick her up later.”

 

Stefano nods, too weak to say anything else, and rinses his mouth a few times.

 

“Let’s get you to bed,” Sebastian says, taking the glass from him and extending his hand.

 

Stefano shakes his head, because even the thought of moving right now makes his stomach churn all over again.

 

“No?” Sebastian asks, and Stefano shakes his head again.  “Okay then,” Sebastian says, and the next thing Stefano knows, Sebastian is seated on the floor next to him, leaning up against the bathtub.

 

“What are you-?” Stefano manages to gasp out before he finds himself gathered up in Sebastian’s arms and held close to his chest.  He holds his breath for a moment, hoping that this doesn’t trigger another vomiting episode, but he feels only exhaustion and embarrassment and the lingering pain of his stomach muscles contracting so violently.

 

“You didn’t think I was going to leave you alone on the bathroom floor, did you?” Sebastian asks, shifting so that Stefano can more comfortably rest his head on his chest.

 

Stefano isn’t sure what he thought Sebastian would do, but the comfort of Sebastian’s arms around him is so at odds with everything else he is feeling now that he wants to burrow into Sebastian and never emerge.

 

Sebastian is tugging at the material of his shirt, freeing it from his pants so that nothing obstructs his access to Stefano, and then Sebastian’s hand is resting on his belly, touch light and uncertain.

 

“Is this okay?” he asks.

 

“Yes,” Stefano replies, voice muffled by Sebastian’s shirt.

 

Sebastian’s hand begins to make slow, gentle circles, and Stefano relaxes into him.  He shivers, not with cold anymore, but because Sebastian’s warm hand is on his bare skin, and Sebastian is soothing away the pain.  He sighs deeply, letting his muscles unclench as Sebastian’s fingers work their magic.

 

Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of Stefano’s head before he asks.  “How do you feel otherwise?”

 

“I’m fine otherwise,” Stefano says, a note of irritation creeping into his voice, because he knows where Sebastian is going with this, but Sebastian simply holds him and rubs his belly some more, and the whole thing would be wonderfully relaxing if Stefano wasn’t waiting for him to deliver the punch line.

 

“Go ahead,” Stefano says finally.  “Say it.  I know how much you want to.”

 

“Okay,” Sebastian says.  He takes a deep breath.  “I love you.”

 

Stefano almost laughs, but his stomach muscles are much too sore for that, so it comes out as more of a snort.  “Not that,” he replies, because what he was actually expecting to hear was some variation of ‘I told you so’.  He adds, “You can’t love me right now.  I’m disgusting.  I’ve been vomiting for an hour.”

 

“You could vomit on me right now and I would still love you,” Sebastian says, and the tone of his voice tells Stefano that he is dead serious.

 

“I-” Stefano begins, but realizes the instant he opens his mouth that he is dangerously close to testing whether Sebastian actually means what he said.  He makes a dive for the toilet, and this time Sebastian is with him, supporting him with an arm wrapped around his chest and a hand sweeping back his hair, as he heaves again and again.  His stomach is empty this time, and each painful spasm that racks his body makes him feel closer and closer to bringing up one of his own organs.

 

As the waves of nausea begin to recede, Stefano is aware that Sebastian is murmuring reassurances in his ear, telling him that it will be over soon, that he is safe, that Sebastian is with him.  Once he is finished, at least for the time being, Sebastian hands him another glass of water so that he can rinse his mouth again.

 

They settle back down on the floor, waiting out the next episode.  Stefano is leaning heavily on Sebastian, and Sebastian’s face is pressed into Stefano’s hair.

 

“I love you,” Stefano whispers into Sebastian’s shirt.

 

Sebastian gives him the tiniest squeeze before he replies.  “And I told you raw oysters were a bad idea.”

 

Stefano wants to laugh, because there is the Sebastian he knows, but he’s afraid that will start everything all over again, so he just presses closer to Sebastian.

 

 

 


	6. Day 6- Betrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- feels

 

 

“Thank you, Sebastian,” Theodore’s voice booms.  “You have done your duty admirably.  I will be taking custody of Stefano now.”

 

Stefano doesn’t speak.  He turns to Sebastian, hoping to see rage, indignation that Theodore would try to deceive them like this, but Sebastian’s shoulders are slumped in resignation.  He looks as miserable as Stefano feels.

 

“Stefano,” Sebastian says, voice breaking as the flames rise up all around him.  “I had no choice.  This is about my daughter.  Please tell me that you understand.”  Sebastian’s eyes plead with him, soft and wet and filled with the reflections of dancing flames.

 

Stefano doesn’t understand.  What he knows is that the man he has been traveling through STEM with, the man he has fought beside, the man who has saved his life more than once, is abandoning him.  Trust is a fragile thing, especially for Stefano, whose relationships with people have been less than satisfactory.  It takes a long time to establish, and only a moment to destroy.  But trust is also born out of desperation, out of being the only two remotely human creatures left in a twisted, crumbling world, and Stefano has, on some level, come to trust Sebastian.  And now this.

 

“You will, of course, be compensated as promised,” Theodore’s voice echoes through the hall.  “Stefano has many of the qualities of a good Core candidate.  I will be able to use his power quite effectively.”

 

Sebastian’s eyes haven’t left Stefano’s face.  “Please, Stefano, you know why I had to do this, don’t you?”

 

Stefano doesn’t understand.  He realizes, in a detached sort of way, what is going on, as though he is watching a plot twist revealed in a film or novel, but on the inside he is numb.  Clearly Sebastian was promised the Core in exchange for Stefano, and he knows how much Sebastian wants the Core.

 

Sebastian doesn’t want the Core for the same reasons that he and Theodore wanted the Core though.  Sebastian ascribes some sort of intrinsic value to it.  In fact, Lily, as Sebastian calls the Core, is all that Sebastian has been talking about for hours, sometimes in grandiose promises of rescue and sometimes in smaller, more intimate comments about Lily herself.  Each one of those comments is a glimpse of the man behind the façade of the tireless warrior, and Stefano has come to relish those moments.

 

Perhaps Stefano might have dismissed Sebastian’s words as empty and melodramatic, but he has also had the opportunity to observe Sebastian’s commitment to finding Lily firsthand, and he is relentless in his pursuit of her.  No enemy, no danger, no obstacle that Theodore has put in his way will deter him.  He remembers what Sebastian said on the elevator ride to Theodore’s throne room.  _I’ll keep coming back until one of us is dead._   Stefano believes him, but he still doesn’t understand.

 

Sebastian’s single-minded dedication to his task is so foreign to him that in the course of their travels, he has begun to wonder if Sebastian is a man at all or whether Sebastian might be the very embodiment of loyalty.  Now he has his answer.  Sebastian is loyal to a fault, just not loyal to him.

 

Stefano chastises himself.  He should have been prepared for this.  He knows the place that he occupies in the world.  From an early age, he has understood that first and foremost, one must take care of oneself in order to survive.  His parents fed and clothed and sheltered him, but they were reserved, cold, and he quickly learned to tend to his own needs.  Later relationships followed the same pattern, and even though there have been people that he felt something for, he is certain that no one in his life has ever cared for him the way Sebastian cares for Lily, would ever protect him the way that Sebastian protects Lily.

 

No one would brave STEM to rescue him.  He knows this because he has apparently been here for years and no one has come.  But perhaps he has brought it on himself.  He has been indifferent to the world, and now the world is indifferent to him.

 

There is a burst of flames, and Theodore appears before them.  He is holding the sleeping child in his arms, and the sight of Lily finally causes Sebastian to tear his eyes away from Stefano.

 

“Come, Sebastian,” Theodore says.  “Claim your reward.”  Sebastian takes a step closer to Theodore and reaches for Lily.  Theodore relinquishes her into Sebastian’s arms.  Sebastian pulls her close, holds her against his body, but he is looking over her shoulder at Stefano.

 

“Stefano…” Sebastian tries again, eyes brimming with tears now.  Stefano simply shakes his head.  He is numb, cold on the inside.  He shouldn’t have expected anything else, but he feels like a fool because he did.

 

“You should go now, Sebastian,” Theodore says.  “There is little time if you intend to leave Union.”

 

Sebastian nods, but his eyes are still locked onto Stefano’s face.  “I’m sorry,” he says, voice breaking again.  “I’m sorry.”  He drops his gaze to the floor, shifts Lily in his arms, and starts for the door.

 

“Oh Stefano,” Theodore says as Sebastian walks away, “what a kingdom we will have together- my vision and your power.”

 

Stefano knows that he will never be allowed his own vision again.  He will be a tool, a weapon in Theodore’s arsenal, and he will act as Theodore demands, he will think as Theodore dictates.  There is no other option, no escape for him, because his only chance at rescue, his only hope of overpowering Theodore, is walking out the door.

 

Sebastian’s footsteps slow as he reaches the door, and both Stefano and Theodore turn to watch as he places a hand on it.  For a moment, the entire room seems frozen in time, and then Sebastian pushes the door open and disappears through it.

 

Stefano doesn’t understand, but there is a new feeling in his chest, a cold, gnawing ache.

 

 

 


	7. Day 7- Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- mild stabbing, blood

 

 

Once the strange resonance dissipates, Sebastian checks the basement of the visitor’s center for supplies and turns to head for the door.  One thing is clear- This photographer is a cold-blooded killer, and he’s probably responsible for the death of every Mobius agent in this place.  Sebastian can’t say that it’s a great loss, though he is wary of running into the photographer himself.

 

This brings him to the perplexing warning that he saw at the top of the stairs.  _Don’t go._   It was unmistakably Lily’s handwriting, but there doesn’t seem to be any reason to avoid going down here.  Sebastian is still pondering this when he opens the door to the staircase.  He catches the briefest glimpse of a figure standing there before the camera flash goes off.

 

The flash itself is momentarily blinding, but that’s not even the worst of it.  Sebastian finds himself actually frozen in place, unable to draw his gun or even blink as the photographer lowers his camera and advances on him.

 

“Ah, Sebastian, isn’t it?”  The photographer’s voice is silky smooth, his accent tickling Sebastian’s ears even as Sebastian struggles to move.  He is held fast though, everything around him tinted blue as though he is looking through some sort of aquarium.

 

The photographer laughs.  “I apologize.  How rude of me.  Let us go somewhere that we can have a proper conversation.”  With that, the photographer steps forward, reaching though the blue haze to touch Sebastian’s shoulder.

 

Sebastian has a sudden rush of vertigo, feels as though he is being yanked through space, much as he is when he travels by the mirrors, but this time he is not in control and it feels almost violent.  Then his feet hit the floor and he staggers, feels the photographer push him down by the shoulder with surprising strength.

 

He lands in a chair, but just when he is about to embrace his newfound ability to move, something is wrapping around his arms and legs, something like wires or tentacles that move on their own and bind him tightly to the chair itself.  A quick glance around the room he is now in is not very informative.  There is a black and white tile floor, and the walls are covered in red curtains, but he can see nothing else- nothing except the photographer.

 

“God damn it!” snarls Sebastian, relieved that at least he can speak now.  “Who are you?”

 

The photographer takes a step back and makes a small bow to Sebastian.  “I am Stefano Valentini, the most esteemed artist in Union.”

 

Stefano’s demeanor and the self-satisfied way in which he carries himself only make the anger burn hotter in Sebastian’s chest, and he shoots back.  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?  Union’s not even real!”

 

“Not real?” Stefano says with a dangerous smile.  “Not real?”  He stalks up to Sebastian, reaching into his jacket with the hand that isn’t holding the camera.  He pulls out a knife, the large, intricate one that Sebastian saw him wield back in the gallery, and raises it to Sebastian’s face.

 

Sebastian can’t move in any meaningful way with his arms and legs bound to the chair, and he doesn’t want to give this smug asshole the satisfaction of reacting with fear, so he steels himself and waits.  The knife slices into the flesh just above his left temple, stinging hot as Stefano cuts an arc around the outside of his eye.

 

Stefano steps back, and Sebastian exhales roughly.  “Now tell me,” Stefano says, stowing his knife back inside his jacket, “did that feel ‘not real’ to you?”

 

Sebastian doesn’t answer, because of course it felt real, but it wasn’t.  That’s the entire point of STEM.

 

Stefano nods knowingly.  “I thought so.  Union is real, and it is the sort of reality that can be shaped and molded to reflect my vision.”  He pauses.  “Of course, that brings me to the reason that you and I are at odds.”

 

Rage flares up inside Sebastian at even the mention of Lily.  “Where is she?” he snarls.

 

Stefano smiles, “She is safe.  And she will remain safe.  I require her power to craft my new world.  And there is another who desires her power, one with far more influence than you.”

 

“Don’t you dare!” shouts Sebastian, straining against his bonds, because he wants nothing more at this moment than to get his hands around Stefano’s throat.  “Don’t you touch her!”

 

The camera is flashing in his face again before he even realizes what is happening.

 

“Such passion,” Stefano says appreciatively.  “You make an enticing subject, Sebastian.”

 

“I’m not your subject, and I never will be!” Sebastian snaps.  “And neither is Lily!”  He jerks against the wires holding him to the chair, but they only bind him tighter.  He tries again and again to rise, but it is no use.  He is left panting and fuming, and of course, Stefano is snapping pictures the entire goddamned time.

 

Stefano approaches again, brushes Sebastian’s face with gloved fingers.  Sebastian tries to jerk his head away, but Stefano simply follows him as far as his head can move and continues to trace his fingers along Sebastian’s cheek.  The touch feels almost intimate.

 

“So much anger,” Stefano purrs.  “So much pain.”  The corners of his mouth turn up in a very disconcerting smile.  “I can’t wait until you see what I have in store for you.”

 

Sebastian only glares as Stefano steps back again, looking down at him.  “Unfortunately I do have some other business to attend to,” he says.  “But let me assure you that we will meet again.”  He raises a hand to his mouth and blows Sebastian a kiss.

 

Sebastian is still trying to craft an appropriate response to that when he feels himself yanked through space again.  When his vision clears, he is standing in the basement stairwell of the visitor’s center, alone and with a trickle of blood running down his cheek from the fresh wound on his face.

 

 

 


	8. Day 8- Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- minor illness, some nsfw comments by Sebastian

 

 

“I’m not sick,” Sebastian says, glaring across the breakfast table at Stefano and Lily, who exchange a meaningful look.

 

“It was one little cough,” Sebastian says.

 

“If you say so…” Lily says, turning her attention back to her cereal.  Stefano picks up the newspaper.  Neither one of them looks convinced.

 

“I’m not sick,” Sebastian insists.

 

After breakfast, Lily goes upstairs to get ready for her soccer game, and Sebastian begins washing the dishes.  Stefano is pointedly silent, except for the occasional turn of a page of the newspaper.  The silence hangs thick around them, the tension finally becoming unbearable just as Sebastian finishes the dishes.  He turns to Stefano.

 

“I said I’m not sick,” he snaps, before Stefano can say anything.

 

Stefano looks him up and down.  “You are sweating,” he points out.

 

“That’s because it’s ninety degrees in here!” snaps Sebastian.  “Why do you set the thermostat so high?”

 

Stefano ignores the question.  “You have only had coffee this morning, and you always eat breakfast.”

 

“I’m not hungry,” Sebastian says with an exasperated sigh.  “Aren’t I allowed to not be hungry sometimes?”

 

Stefano ignores that question as well.  “You are shaking,” he says.

 

“Well that’s probably because I didn’t eat breakfast,” Sebastian mutters as he stalks out of the kitchen.  He checks the thermostat in the hall and finds that it is set at seventy degrees, which doesn’t explain the sweat rolling off of his body or the tremors.  He heads into the bathroom and takes a few aspirin, because he has been working a lot and maybe he is a little run down, but he is not sick.

 

By midafternoon, things have deteriorated significantly.  Sebastian’s whole body aches, joints and muscles protesting every move he makes.  As soon as they get home from Lily’s soccer game, he collapses onto the couch.

 

“You okay Dad?” Lily asks as Stefano closes the door behind them.

 

“Fine, sweetie,” he answers, though his whole body feels like it’s on fire.  He closes his eyes, because his head is pounding, and if he can just get a minute of quiet maybe he can pull himself back together.

 

He hears Lily’s footsteps on the stairs, and then everything goes suspiciously quiet.  He opens his eyes to see Stefano staring down at him.

 

“You are not fine,” Stefano says simply.

 

Sebastian frowns.  “Of course I am.”

 

“Care to prove it?” Stefano asks.

 

Sebastian shrugs.  “Why not?”

 

Stefano nods and walks out of Sebastian’s line of sight.  When he returns, Sebastian catches sight of the thermometer in his hand.

 

“No,” Sebastian says, abruptly sitting up, which turns out to be a mistake, because his head is throbbing.  He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “This is not the time to play doctor.”

 

“I am not playing doctor,” Stefano reassures him, sitting down next to him on the couch and placing a hand on his leg.  “But let’s see if you are actually fine.”

 

Sebastian sighs deeply, because Stefano has him backed into a corner here.  He reluctantly takes the thermometer from Stefano, puts it under his tongue, and presses the button.  They sit in silence waiting for it to register, Stefano’s hand moving slowly up and down his thigh.  When the thermometer beeps, he hands it to Stefano, because he is fairly sure that he doesn’t want to know what it says.

 

Stefano takes one look at it, and his eyebrow shoots up.  “Bed,” he says to Sebastian, pointing to the stairs.  “Now.”

 

Sebastian doesn’t have the heart or the strength to argue with him anymore, so he allows Stefano to help him up to their bedroom, allows Stefano to close the door and strip him naked, allows Stefano to guide him into bed and pull the sheet over him.

 

He curls up on his side, and he can feel his pulse, feel the blood pounding in his veins with every heartbeat.  His skin burns and he wishes he could throw the sheet off of him, but Stefano did leave the door ajar, and he is afraid that Lily might walk by.

 

Stefano comes back in, closing the door behind him.  “I have brought you some cold compresses,” he announces.  “We need to get your fever down.”

 

Sebastian nods, because that sounds like a good idea, but his brain is a little fuzzy and he is too sore to move.  Stefano pulls back the sheet and climbs onto the bed next to him, sitting cross-legged.

 

“On your back, please,” Stefano says, and Sebastian complies.

 

Sebastian yelps in surprise when Stefano’s fingers touch his inner thigh, because those fingers are cold, and it’s a very sensitive area.  He presses his thighs tightly together.

 

“Don’t,” Sebastian slurs.  “I don’t care how bad the fever is.  You are not icing my balls.”

 

Stefano snorts in laughter but pats his thigh comfortingly.  “It is not ice, and I am not putting it on your balls.  It needs to go on your femoral artery.”

 

Sebastian’s head is spinning too much for him to know what any of that means.

 

“Relax, Sebastian,” Stefano says tapping him on the thigh again, and this time, Sebastian manages to unclench his muscles.  Stefano spreads his legs apart a little and places the cold cloth on his inner thigh up against his groin.  The cold is shocking against his heated skin, but after an initial burst of adrenaline, it actually starts to feel kind of soothing.  Stefano places a second compress on the opposite side and then sits back and looks at Sebastian.

 

Sebastian doesn’t mean to split hairs, but the cold compresses are still basically on his balls, and he would point this out to Stefano if Stefano wasn’t already busy tucking more cold compresses under his arms.  The coolness against his body is lovely, and when Stefano dabs at his face with another cold damp cloth, Sebastian leans into his hand, breathing a sigh of relief.

 

“You’re going to be alright,” Stefano says quietly.

 

“I know,” Sebastian mumbles.  “Because I’m not sick.”

 

 

 


	9. Day 9- Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No real warnings for this one except that it got a little silly.

 

 

Stefano gets the first text message at about one thirty in the afternoon.  He is in his darkroom developing a batch of photographs when the phone beeps.  He glances over, sees that the message is from Sebastian, and heaves a sigh because he is right in the middle of something, but he never ignores a message from Sebastian.

 

He washes and dries his hands and picks up the phone.  Sebastian’s messages tend to be either embarrassingly sweet or downright idiotic, and Stefano can tell immediately that this one is the latter.

 

_So, funny story- I was following that deadbeat loser and I ran out of gas.  Any chance you can come and get me?_

Stefano laughs out loud, because it is just like Sebastian to become so focused on an investigation that he forgets to fill up his gas tank.  Stefano is also familiar with the ‘deadbeat loser’, because Sebastian mentioned last night that he was hired to investigate a man who is supposedly living an extravagant lifestyle while claiming inability to pay child support.

 

_Don’t you have roadside assistance?_ Stefano texts back.

 

There is a pause before Sebastian replies.  _Okay, another funny story- I forgot to pay my car insurance._

 

Stefano rolls his eye even though no one is there to see him, because this unfortunately is also just like Sebastian.  He checks the time.  He can take a break from his work, but he is supposed to pick up Lily from school at two o’clock, so he messages Sebastian back, _I’ll come and get you, but let me pick up Lily first.  Where are you?_

_Oh, right,_ Sebastian texts back.  _Good idea._

The next message that comes through is a location pin that places Sebastian on a rural road well outside the city.  Stefano almost texts back to ask him what in the world he and ‘deadbeat loser’ were doing out there, but decides that won’t accomplish anything.

 

As he is tidying up his photo supplies, another text message from Sebastian comes through.

 

_Can you hurry though?  It’s really hot out here._

_Then go into the shade,_ Stefano messages back.

 

_I tried that,_ Sebastian texts.  _The mosquitoes almost carried me away._

Stefano snorts in laughter, because while Sebastian can be frustrating at times with the predicaments he gets into, at least he makes it entertaining.

 

Stefano climbs the stairs out of the basement darkroom and gets his car keys.  He also stops off in the garage and grabs an empty gas can, which he stows in the trunk before driving to Lily’s school.

 

Lily spots him almost immediately and waves goodbye to her friends before strolling over to his car.  At thirteen, Lily is apparently unwilling to hurry for anything.  She tosses her bookbag in the back before climbing into the passenger seat.

 

“How was your day?” Stefano asks, as Lily buckles her seatbelt and they pull away from the school.

 

“It was alright,” Lily says, vague as usual.

 

“We have to go and rescue your father,” Stefano says, and that catches Lily’s attention.

 

“Oh no,” she groans.  “What did he do this time?”

 

Stefano explains what Sebastian has done this time, which does get a laugh out of Lily, and he plugs the location Sebastian sent into the GPS.

 

A few minutes later, a text message comes through, and Stefano unlocks his phone and hands it to Lily.

 

“Oh, gross!” Lily exclaims with a grimace.

 

“What is it?” Stefano asks, hoping that Sebastian didn’t choose this moment to text some sort of innuendo to him.

 

Lily narrows her eyes at the phone.  “A picture of two vultures fighting over half of a raccoon.”

 

“Oh dear,” Stefano says.

 

“He says he’s afraid that he’s next,” Lily says.

 

“Tell him not to lie down then,” Stefano suggests, and they both laugh.

 

The next text message comes only a few minutes later, and Lily fields it automatically.  “He says that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast, and he’s going to starve.”

 

“Your father is so dramatic,” Stefano observes.  Lily giggles as she begins to reply to the message.

 

“What are you telling him?” Stefano asks.

 

“That he should check to see if there’s any raccoon left,” Lily says, and Stefano laughs again.  Even if Lily isn’t biologically related to him, she has managed to absorb some of his sense of humor.

 

They are within five miles of Sebastian’s position when they get another text message.

 

“He says he’s going to die out here,” Lily reads with a snort of laughter.

 

“Tell him to stay close to the road so we will have an easier time finding his body,” Stefano replies.

 

Lily sends the message, and within a few minutes they are pulling up behind Sebastian’s car which is parked between the road and a seemingly endless stretch of woods.  They really are in the middle of nowhere, which explains why no one has come along to help Sebastian before now.

 

Sebastian himself is leaning up against the side of the car, phone in hand and eyebrows raised.  Stefano pulls up alongside him and rolls down the window.

 

“You know, you guys are kind of mean,” Sebastian says, slipping his phone into his pocket.

 

“We came to rescue you, didn’t we?” Lily says, getting out of the car and giving Sebastian a quick hug before climbing into the backseat.

 

Sebastian gets into the passenger seat, leaning over to kiss Stefano on the cheek before glancing back at Lily.  “Yes, you did,” he says, “so I guess I can forgive you.  Let’s go get some gas and some food.”

 

“One more thing,” Stefano says, fixing Sebastian with a stern look.

 

“What’s that?” Sebastian asks.

 

“You cannot make fun of the Tesla anymore,” Stefano says, gesturing to the dashboard.

 

Sebastian looks physically pained.  “But it’s so pretentious,” he groans.  Stefano glares at him.  “Okay, okay, I won’t make fun of the Tesla anymore.”

 

Stefano pulls back out into the road, as Sebastian mutters something under his breath that sounds like “…lucky to be alive.”

 

 

 


	10. Day 10- Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- nsfw, explicit sexual content

 

 

Sebastian has just finished pressing Stefano down onto the couch, kissing him thoroughly, and tugging the scarf from around his neck when he catches sight of the first bruise, a dark purple mark around his otherwise pale throat.  It looks almost as though he might have been choked or strangled recently, and it brings Sebastian up short.

 

He barely knows anything about Stefano, who he met in a bar a few hours ago.  He knows that he is an artist, that he is very sensitive about the right side of his face, which is covered by his hair, and that he is capable of kissing Sebastian within an inch of his life, but this bruising is a little troubling.

 

Stefano looks up at him, breathing hard and brow furrowed.  “Is something wrong?”

 

Sebastian hesitates, unsure of how to bring this up with someone who is almost a stranger to him.  “You’ve…you’ve got a mark here,” he says, lightly touching his fingers just below the bruised area.

 

“Oh,” Stefano says, a look of relief crossing his face.  “That is from another liaison I had a few nights ago.”

 

This only pacifies Sebastian slightly, and he wonders what it means about his impending liaison with Stefano.  Thinking it best to be upfront about it, he asks, “Do you like to be treated roughly?”

 

“Not particularly,” Stefano replies, some hesitation coming through in his voice.

 

Sebastian leans in to kiss him again, and this one is gentle- an unspoken promise.  When he pulls back though, Stefano still looks a bit uncertain.

 

“If it bothers you,” Stefano says, averting his eyes from Sebastian’s face, “you may not wish to undress me any further.”

 

“It doesn’t,” Sebastian says, leaning in to kiss him again.  It’s not entirely true.  It does bother him that someone would treat Stefano roughly, but it doesn’t make him want Stefano any less.  He pulls back from the kiss and presses his face into Stefano’s neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne and feeling a jolt of arousal, warmth and pressure already building between his legs as he carefully kisses his way down Stefano’s collarbone, where he encounters Stefano’s shirt.

 

He sits up and starts to work on the buttons while Stefano lies under him, looking pleasantly dazed from arousal and alcohol.  When Sebastian finally finishes the buttons and helps Stefano out of his shirt, he can see that there are more bruises on his collarbone, on his wrists, at his waist.

 

At first he tries to pay them no mind, tries to focus on his tongue in Stefano’s mouth and Stefano’s tongue in his, tries to focus on the way that Stefano arches up into him, already hard against his leg, the way that Stefano gasps and moans and clutches at him as he squeezes and sucks at his nipples.  Even so, his eye is drawn back to those bruised areas, and before long his mouth follows, kissing softly along each one as Stefano strokes his back.

 

When he looks up, Stefano is wearing a bemused expression.

 

“Okay, maybe it does bother me a little bit,” Sebastian admits.

 

“No matter,” Stefano replies with a slight smile.  “Unless you’d rather not see any more?”

 

Sebastian leans forward and swallows hard.  “I want to see everything.”

 

Stefano shivers, nods wordlessly, and Sebastian moves his hands to Stefano’s pants, unfastening them, and pulling them off his hips along with Stefano’s underwear.  When Stefano is naked, Sebastian lets his eyes travel back up Stefano’s body, finding more bruising- dark, livid marks on his hips and inner thighs.

 

Stefano opens his mouth to speak, but Sebastian raises a hand.  “It’s alright,” he says.  Then, gesturing to Stefano’s lower body, “May I?”

 

“Yes, of course,” Stefano breathes, and Sebastian dips his head to kiss each newly uncovered bruise, lips pressing so gently to Stefano’s soft skin that Stefano gives a little gasp at each touch.  He spreads his legs willingly so that Sebastian can brush his lips over the bruises that are closer to his groin, and by the time Sebastian finishes, he is breathing hard, one hand clutching the edge of the couch and the other thrown up behind his head.

 

Satisfied that he had tended to all of Stefano’s bruises, Sebastian turns his attention to Stefano’s cock, which lies heavy on belly.  He kisses his way from the base to the tip, letting his tongue tease it for just a moment before he slips his mouth over the head.  Stefano jerks up off the couch with a moan, and Sebastian’s hands instinctively move to grasp his hips.

 

Stefano goes tense, and Sebastian freezes, releasing his cock as he looks up to check that Stefano is alright.  As he does so, he realizes with a start that his fingers are fitting perfectly over the purple shadows that mar Stefano’s pale skin.

 

“Sorry,” he says quickly, letting go of Stefano’s hips.

 

“That’s alright,” Stefano says mildly.  “Just a little tender there.”

 

“Did he do this on purpose?” Sebastian asks, suddenly curious, as he gently kisses each of Stefano’s bruised hips in turn.  “Was he marking you?”

 

“Perhaps,” Stefano says, “though I can’t say that I wish to be reminded of him.”

 

“What about me?” Sebastian asks, kissing his way back down Stefano’s body.

 

“We will see about that, won’t we?” Stefano replies, reaching down to run his fingers along Sebastian’s cheek, his breathing accelerating as Sebastian’s mouth gets closer to his cock.

 

Sebastian reaches out with his tongue, lapping carefully at the head as Stefano groans and presses up with his hips.  Sebastian knows better than to try to hold onto him this time, so he just braces himself on the couch and follows Stefano’s lead.  After a few seconds of licking and listening to Stefano’s noises, he pauses.

 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Sebastian says, nodding to the bruises.  “Is that okay?”

 

“There is more than one way to leave your mark on someone,” Stefano purrs, his hand tangling in Sebastian’s hair.

 

 

 


	11. Day 11- Hypothermia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- slightly nsfw

 

 

Stefano doesn’t know how long he’s been stuck in Anima’s realm or what he is supposed to be doing here, or even where Anima herself is.  All he knows is cold.

 

It began with a chill that ran up his spine, as Anima announced her presence.  He had turned to Sebastian to point out that something was wrong, but before he could get a word out, she had whispered his name and he was transported, whisked away from Sebastian and the diner and dropped into a completely new environment.

 

He feels like he should know this place, but he can’t recall ever seeing it before.  The large, old-fashioned mansion is sprawling, and he has been wandering it for ages, all the while becoming colder and colder under Anima’s influence.  He wonders if he has somehow entered someone else’s memory.

 

From the moment he arrived, he could see his breath hanging heavy in the air in front of him, and even in his blazer and scarf, he shivered.  As he wandered from room to room, the shivering only intensified, and now he couldn’t stop it even if he tried.

 

His whole body is stiff and aches with cold.  Moving is difficult now, but at least the shivering has stopped.  He still stumbles from one room to another, hoping to find some clue, to find someone, but he has been alone for hours.

 

Suddenly a voice rings out down the hall from him.  “Stefano?”

 

Stefano considers briefly that this is some cruel trick Anima is playing on him, but even if it is, he doesn’t care.  He would rather die than wander like this in the cold, dark nothingness of an empty house.

 

“Sebastian!” Stefano tries to call back, but the most he can manage is a hoarse whisper.  Clearly Sebastian isn’t going to be able to hear him, so he starts to make his way down the hall as fast as his stiff, cold legs will carry him, until he rounds a bend and almost collides with Sebastian.

 

“Stefano!”  Sebastian reaches for him, then pauses.  “What’s wrong?  Did something happen?”

 

“I’m alright,” Stefano grits out through clenched teeth.  “Just cold.  Let’s get out of here.”

 

“I don’t know how,” Sebastian admits.  “And you look a lot more than cold.  Let’s get you warmed up and then we can come up with a plan.”

 

Stefano groans inwardly.  He has only spent a few hours on semi-friendly terms with Sebastian, but he is already sure that Sebastian is one of those touchy-feely, caretaking sorts of people who is going to suggest that they snuggle to generate body heat.  He resists the urge to voice his complaint, because even snuggling with Sebastian would be better than being alone and certainly better than freezing to death.

 

Sebastian opens the door nearest them, which leads to a large bedroom.  Stefano follows Sebastian inside, shutting the door behind them for all the good that will do when their primary enemy is some kind of ghost.  He feels considerably better now that Sebastian is with him, though he is still chilled to the bone.

 

This house is apparently old enough to have fireplaces in the bedrooms, and Sebastian sets to work starting a fire while Stefano watches, too cold to move any more than necessary.  Once that is done, Sebastian grabs him by the arm and pulls him right up to the edge of the hearth, as close to the fire as he can be without being in it.

 

“Sit down,” Sebastian says.  “I’m going to look for some blankets or something.”

 

Stefano nods, too cold and dispirited to do anything but obey Sebastian.  As he sits down at the edge of the fireplace, he can feel the heat even though the fire is just getting started.  Sebastian is back in a minute with a pile of blankets.

 

“This would work better if you could take some of your clothes off,” Sebastian suggests.

 

“I was afraid you might say something like that,” Stefano replies in a hoarse voice.  Still, Sebastian is probably right, and Sebastian seems to be bound and determined to help him, and maybe if he disrobes then Sebastian will take some of his clothes off as well.  Stefano isn’t opposed to that idea at all.

 

Stefano shrugs off his jacket, but when his fingers reach the buttons of his shirt, they are clumsy, and after just a few seconds of watching him struggle, Sebastian’s large, warm hands cover his, and Sebastian takes over undressing him, stripping him down to his underwear.

 

Then Sebastian is stripping down as well, wrapping them both up in blankets, and Stefano isn’t sure how they are actually supposed to do this, but there is so much warmth and so much exposed skin, and the smell of Sebastian is intoxicating.

 

They end up with Sebastian lying on his back on the floor at the edge of the hearth with Stefano lying full-length on top of him and the blankets wrapped around them both.  Sebastian’s body heat is warming his front, and Sebastian’s hands are rubbing up and down his back, and his face is buried in Sebastian’s neck because he can’t resist the allure of Sebastian’s warmth any longer.

 

He is still shivering, but the fire and the blankets and Sebastian are warming him so thoroughly that it is turning into the kind of delicious, indulgent shivering that happens on cold evenings in a warm bed.  He wonders idly about Sebastian’s bed and whether he would be welcome there.  Sebastian’s roaming hands certainly suggest that he would.

 

He suddenly becomes aware of a stirring in his body that isn’t just warmth, and one that is quickly going to become noticeable to Sebastian.  He starts to pull away, but Sebastian’s arm is tight around his back.

 

“Don’t worry about that,” Sebastian murmurs in his ear as his hand makes circles on Stefano’s lower back.  “At least we know one part of you is thawing out.”

 

Stefano muffles his laughter against Sebastian’s skin.

 

 

 


	12. Day 12- Electrocution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- minor injuries, explicit language

 

 

Sebastian and Stefano are rounding a corner in the residential part of Union when they spot a large group of the Lost, stomping back and forth and waving makeshift weapons at no one and shouting incoherently as they often do.

 

Sebastian turns to Stefano and puts a finger to his lips but freezes in horror when he catches sight of the tall, misshapen mass of flesh behind them.  The noise it is making is almost like crying, and it seems to have its head in its hands.  Sebastian is actually surprised that it somehow snuck up on them, because they should have been able to hear it coming.  That doesn’t matter now, and of course, the monster spots them at that very moment and unleashes a godawful shriek that has all of the Lost sprinting in their direction.

 

“Fuck!” Sebastian shouts, grabbing Stefano’s arm and yanking him out of the way of the vile, toxic sludge the new creature is spewing onto the asphalt.  They dash across the street, trying to make it to a building, but the Lost have locked on to them now, and there are too many to take out with a gun or a knife.

 

Sebastian scans the environment quickly, looking for an opportunity.  He spots one in the large puddle of water spilling out of a damaged fire hydrant on the corner.

 

“This way!” he yells to Stefano, gesturing to the puddle.  Sebastian is already preparing his crossbow as they race toward it.  He has to admit that he is slightly impressed that Stefano doesn’t make a fuss about getting his shoes wet, and they dash through with the Lost hot on their heels.

 

Sebastian whirls around and fires a shock bolt into the water.  He has the very brief satisfaction of seeing the Lost frozen in place, limbs jerking uselessly, before his vision is going dark and he is falling.

 

When Sebastian opens his eyes, he is lying on his back on the street next to a puddle of water full of motionless bodies.  His head aches, and his back aches, and he’s pretty sure he can smell something burning.  He rolls onto his side with a grunt to see that Stefano is lying on the ground beside him, though he is face down.  As Sebastian watches, Stefano begins to stir, rolling onto his side to face Sebastian.

 

“What happened?” Sebastian asks.

 

“You electrocuted us, you imbecile,” Stefano groans.

 

“No,” Sebastian says.  “There’s no way.  We were out of range.”

 

“We were standing in water,” Stefano points out, rubbing at his face with a gloved hand.  “And my shoes are smoking.”

 

Sebastian glances down to see that Stefano may be exaggerating a bit.  There is only a very thin tendril of smoke rising up from his shoes.  Seeing it does give him some concern about the state of Stefano’s feet though.

 

“Are you burned?” Sebastian asks quickly.

 

Stefano shakes his head.  “I do not think so, though I am a bit too old to be crashing to the ground with no warning.”

 

“I don’t think you get to talk about being too old for this,” Sebastian says, trying to work some of the stiffness out of his neck and shoulders.  He wonders how long they’ve been lying on the ground.  At least there weren’t any enemies nearby to finish them off while they were lying here helpless.

 

“What about you?” Stefano asks.  “Are you alright?”

 

“Just sore,” Sebastian answers.  Then as he pauses for a moment, he notices something else, and his hand goes to his chest.  “And my heart’s doing something weird.”

 

Stefano’s hand is working its way under Sebastian’s almost immediately, pressed flat over his shirt and his hammering heart.

 

“I do not think electricity is good for the heart,” Stefano observes, waiting patiently as Sebastian’s heart goes through several different patterns, speeding up and slowing down apparently at random.

 

“What do we do?” Sebastian asks, because he has no idea what to do in this situation aside from getting to a hospital.  Even if there is a hospital in Union, he doesn’t think he’d like to go there.

 

“Just lie still here for a little while and hope that it doesn’t get any worse,” Stefano offers, though it seems likely that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about either.  He has removed his hand from Sebastian, and Sebastian is surprised to find that he sort of wishes Stefano would touch him again.

 

Sebastian immediately begins to question the wisdom of lying right where he is, because the street is unyielding, and his muscles are sore, and his head is pounding.  He closes his eyes to try to shut out some of the unpleasant sensations when he feels Stefano’s hand on his shoulder.

 

“Here, lie on your back,” Stefano says, and Sebastian obeys even though the only difference it makes is that the asphalt is now digging into his back instead of his side.  Then Stefano is gently lifting his head and slipping something under it, which Sebastian realizes belatedly is Stefano’s jacket.

 

“Thanks,” Sebastian says.  Then, glancing up at Stefano who is now standing over him.  “You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

 

“No,” Stefano says, “I am not leaving.”  He does wander around the surrounding area, returning with Sebastian’s weapons which he lines up neatly next to Sebastian.  The he sits down at Sebastian’s side and folds his hands under his chin.

 

“Are you…are you sure you don’t need to check my heart again?” Sebastian asks, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice.  Apparently he doesn’t succeed though, because Stefano gives him a knowing smile.

 

“Do I need to?” Stefano asks.

 

“Maybe,” Sebastian says, a smile creeping onto his face as well.  “I mean, who knows what it’s doing now.”

 

“Very true,” Stefano replies, this time slipping his hand underneath Sebastian’s shirt and letting it rest over his heart.  Sebastian shivers at the touch, even in such an innocent context.  “One can never be too careful.”

 

 

 


	13. Day 13- "Stay"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- feels
> 
> Now with bonus happy ending!

 

 

The first time Sebastian says it, it’s a suggestion, a hopeful invitation that maybe the night doesn’t have to end yet.  Maybe they can have coffee or a drink and talk a little more, because of course there’s no one else he can talk to about his experiences in STEM.  Maybe a friendly chat will lead to friendly touching, and then he can bury his feelings and his hopes and his dreams and his fears and himself inside of Stefano and feel like something matters again, like he matters.

 

“Stay.”

 

“Very well,” Stefano says, and he steps over the threshold and into Sebastian’s arms.

 

It doesn’t take long before Stefano is spending much of his time with Sebastian and Lily.  He fits seamlessly into their lives, helping Lily with her homework and fixing things around the house and coming to Sebastian’s bed every night, so warm and so eager to be with Sebastian.  It feels good to be wanted after such a long time alone.

 

It is shortly after one of these sessions, when he and Sebastian are lying together, arms and legs intertwined and covered in sweat and lazily stroking each other, that he tells Sebastian about an opportunity he has to display his work at a gallery.  It could be his breakthrough as an artist, he tells Sebastian, but it would take him to Italy for at least a year.

 

Sebastian aches, physically suffers at even the prospect of being separated from Stefano for so long, because Stefano is part of him, and he can no more give him up than he can give up a limb.  Without Stefano he will bleed out and die, and he knows it is selfish, and he knows that he should be telling Stefano to do what will make him happy, but just this once, he wants to be happy too.

 

“Stay,” he whispers, mouth inches from Stefano’s ear.

 

Stefano heaves a long sigh, but nods.  “I’ll stay with you Sebastian.”

 

If there are other such opportunities over the next year, Sebastian doesn’t know about them.  Perhaps Stefano keeps them to himself, because he continues to work on his portfolio and teach classes at the local university and submit his art to anywhere that will consider publishing or exhibiting it, and they are happy.

 

They spend the holidays together because none of them has any other family.  Stefano sings Christmas carols with Lily, and Sebastian almost burns the house down trying to make a big holiday dinner.  It may be a little chaotic, but they are together, and that’s all that matters.

 

In the spring, they buy a bigger house, one that can accommodate Stefano’s photo studio and art room.  When Sebastian carries Stefano over the threshold for the first time, both of them laughing at how ridiculous the whole thing is, Sebastian actually feels like they are starting over, like the three of them can have some kind of life together.

 

It’s about midway through the summer that he notices Stefano start to become quieter, more withdrawn.  He doesn’t spend as much time working on his art anymore, and Sebastian often catches him simply staring off into space or roaming the house or disappearing from it entirely for hours at a time.  When Sebastian asks him what is wrong, he says it’s nothing, but surely it has to be something.

 

Even so, Sebastian doesn’t worry too much, because there are still moments when all three of them are together and laughing.  There are still moments when they are happy, and he doesn’t want to risk those by digging deeper.  Stefano will tell him if something is really the matter.

 

In October, when the air has started to turn crisp and the days are getting shorter, Sebastian comes home one evening to find Stefano sitting in the living room with a serious look on his face.

 

“Sebastian,” Stefano says, before Sebastian can even say hello.  “We need to talk.”

 

“About what?” Sebastian asks, setting his keys on the table.

 

“About this,” Stefano says, gesturing all around him.  “About this house, about this life…about us.”

 

“What do you mean?” Sebastian asks, his heart sinking lower and lower in his chest with each word Stefano speaks.  He sits heavily on the couch opposite Stefano.

 

Stefano takes a deep breath.  “You know that I love you, Sebastian, but I can’t do this anymore.”

 

“You can’t do what anymore?” Sebastian asks.  Even to his own ears, his voice sounds flat, listless.

 

“I can’t be with you anymore,” Stefano says, gazing steadily at him through his one visible eye.

 

“But, Stefano, our life is great.  I-” Sebastian starts to say, but Stefano cuts him off.

 

“Not our life, Sebastian.  Your life.”  He scoots closer, raising a hand to cup Sebastian’s cheek.  Sebastian is too numb to react.  “I know how much you want back the life that you had with Lily and Myra, but I cannot do that.  I cannot be her.”

 

“I don’t want you to be her,” Sebastian whispers.  “I know you’re not her.”

 

“But do you know who I am?” Stefano asks.  There is no malice in his tone, just resignation.  “Do you understand what is important to me?”

 

“Oh god,” Sebastian gasps, the tears already beginning to burn his eyes.  His chest aches, feels like it is going to split open, and he drops his head into his hands.  This can’t be happening.  This isn’t real.

 

“I do love you, Sebastian,” Stefano says, catching Sebastian’s face in his hands and lifting him up to kiss him on the forehead.  “But I must go now.”

 

“I love you too,” Sebastian sobs.

 

Stefano rests their foreheads together, and Sebastian makes one more attempt, one more desperate plea to preserve the only stability he and Lily have found, the person who anchors him in this world.

 

“Stay.”

 

Another kiss to his forehead.  “Not this time,” Stefano whispers.  The front door closes a few seconds later, and even with Lily in the house, Sebastian is alone.

 

 

 

 

One year later, Stefano is circulating around the gallery at the opening of his latest exhibit in Florence.  Tonight’s turnout is modest, but his work seems to be well-received, and he has already had a few good conversations with local art critics in attendance.  The buzz of the people talking around him blends pleasantly with the buzz from the champagne, and everything is almost perfect, until one man in particular catches his attention.

 

The man is standing with his back to Stefano, looking at one of his photographs, and even without seeing his face, Stefano is intrigued.  His hair, his posture, the way one hand is thrust casually into the pocket of his suit- he is clearly Stefano’s type, and Stefano isn’t sure if he is ready to get involved with someone again, but it would surely be a waste not to talk to this man at all.

 

Stefano makes his way over, pausing a few feet behind the man, who still seems to be engrossed in the photograph.

 

“Buonasera,” says Stefano.  He practically drops his champagne when the man turns around.

 

Sebastian gives him a shy smile.  “Hi,” he says.  “I don’t know a word of Italian.  I’m actually kind of surprised they let me in here at all.”

 

Stefano is sure that he is just staring, because there are so many emotions running through him, and his brain is struggling to keep up, and this might be the first time he has seen Sebastian in a suit.  It’s an enticing sight.

 

“Stefano,” Sebastian says, taking a step forward.  “I know I fucked up, and I’m sorry, and I’m so happy for you.”  He gestures around at the gallery, seemingly at a loss for words.  “And I just-”

 

Stefano steps in close and silences Sebastian with a kiss, and Sebastian’s mouth is warm and perfect and exactly the way he remembers it, and if Sebastian is willing to give all of this a chance, then Stefano is willing to give him a second one.

 

Stefano pulls back, then leans in close to Sebastian’s ear and whispers, “Stay.”

 

Sebastian wraps his arms around Stefano, laughing.  “I will.  We will- but I have to go back and get Lily.  Italy is all she talks about these days.”

 

Stefano only smiles and pulls him in for another kiss.

 

 

 


	14. Day 14- Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- non-con, anal sex, rough sex, strangulation, suicidal thoughts, no Sebastian, hurt/no comfort
> 
> Takes place in the Soft Focus universe.

 

 

Stefano is almost asleep when the door to his room opens and the heavy footsteps cross the floor.  His heart sinks, because this is his room.  This is a place where he is supposed to be able to rest, to be free from the demands of Slade’s clients, but of course Riker follows no rules.

 

The mattress dips beside him, and he shifts, turns onto his stomach in hopes that Riker will just take him and be done with it.  Sometimes, if he’s very lucky, Riker just wants to get off and be on his way.

 

He can tell almost immediately that it’s not one of those times, because Riker runs a hand from his shoulder down to his hip.

 

“Turn over,” he says, his voice a low rumble close to Stefano’s ear.  “I want to see your face.”

 

Stefano turns over onto his back, and even though the room is dark, the streetlight outside illuminates the room enough for him to see the way Riker leers at him.  Riker reaches over, brushes his hair aside, and takes a good long look at him before he speaks.

 

“It’s a good thing you’ve got such a great mouth and a tight ass,” Riker says.  “Because otherwise there’s no way I’d put up with this.”  He gestures at Stefano’s face.  “No one would.”

 

Stefano looks away from Riker.  There is no need for him to respond.  He knows Riker is right about his face, and he is thankful that he has other skills that Slade values, that allow him to be useful to Slade, because has to be useful to Slade.  His life depends on it.

 

Riker’s hand slides down his body and between his legs to rub his soft cock.  It is sick and wrong and disgusting when Riker touches him like this, when Riker acts like he is trying to pleasure him, and Stefano tries to tune it out, goes to that quiet place in his head where he spends much of his time when he is on duty.

 

“Hey,” Riker says, clamping his hand down on Stefano’s balls so that the rush of pain yanks Stefano back into the room, forcing a yelp from his throat.  “None of that now.  You stay here with me.”

 

Stefano nods wordlessly, trying to draw air back into his lungs.  Riker releases his balls, then pushes the blankets aside and moves to kneel between his legs.  He unzips and unbuttons his pants, pushing them halfway down his hips, as much as he ever undresses during these visits.

 

He’s already hard, stroking his cock as he looks at Stefano, who doesn’t dare to look away this time.  Riker reaches for Stefano’s cock again, and Stefano has to suppress a flinch as his hand closes around it.  He stays in his body, feels the rough strokes of Riker’s hand, and tries to have some kind of reaction, because clearly that’s what Riker wants, but his body is not cooperating tonight.

 

“Not going to get hard for me, are you?” Riker says.  “That’s alright.  I like you better like this.”

 

He lets go of Stefano’s cock and grabs his hips, pulling Stefano’s ass halfway up into his lap.  Stefano can feel the tip of his cock pressing against his opening for just a moment before Riker drives his hips forward and pulls Stefano hard against him, burying himself to the hilt in one violent thrust.

 

The pain rips through him, and despite his best efforts, he tries to pull away.  Riker holds him tightly, grinding against him with a grunt of satisfaction.  The pain makes Stefano crave the drugs, crave the relief they would provide, but he knows better than to ask Riker for them now.

 

“Look how loose they’ve got you,” Riker says.  “How many of them had you tonight?  Ten?  Twenty?”

 

Stefano doesn’t answer.  Between the drugs and the dissociating, he lost count after the twelfth man, but he doesn’t feel loose at all.  Riker is big all over, and Stefano already feels like it’s too much, like Riker is going to break him.

 

Riker pulls out and slams back in, knocking the breath out of Stefano’s lungs.  “I asked you a question,” he snarls.

 

“I don’t know,” Stefano gasps.  “I don’t remember.”

 

“Doesn’t even remember how many,” Riker says, almost to himself.  “What a good little whore.”

 

He begins to thrust again, pulling all the way out each time before driving roughly back in.  The pain is sharp, intense, and Stefano has no time to recover between thrusts, and he can’t take it, can’t feel this anymore.  His mind starts to draw away, away from this room and Riker and everything else that has happened here.

 

Riker’s hands close around his throat, and suddenly he is back, underneath Riker, body being split open around Riker’s cock, and now utterly unable to breathe.  He tries to draw air in- once, twice- but Riker has his airway completely closed, and his vision is starting to go dark around the edges.

 

His hands are grasping at Riker’s forearms, and he knows he is not supposed to resist, knows what the penalty is for resisting, but he is going to die if he doesn’t get some air.  His hands scrabble uselessly along Riker’s arms, which are strong and unyielding.

 

Just as his vision has narrowed down to one tiny point of light, Riker releases him, and he gasps, sucks in a great lungful of air.

 

“That’s better,” Riker says.  “Stay with me.”  But the look in his eyes, the raw lust and the predatory excitement tell Stefano that Riker has seen something he wants.

 

He isn’t surprised when, after a few more minutes of relentless pounding, he feels Riker’s hands on his throat again, feels his air gone and his life ebbing away.  Time and time again, Riker squeezes until he is almost unconscious and then releases him, until he finds himself hoping that the next time, Riker will hold on just a few seconds too long.

 

 

 


	15. Day 15- Manhandling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- violence, abusive relationship, hurt/no comfort, very little Sebastian, explicit language, prostitution
> 
> This is another bonus scene from the Soft Focus universe.

 

 

There are so few moments in Stefano’s life when he gets to make a choice, when he sees something he wants and can actually reach out and take it, and looking at Sebastian standing shirtless in the doorway of the motel room is one of those moments.  He moves in and presses his lips to Sebastian’s without a second thought, because Sebastian is simply too intriguing to let this opportunity pass him by.

 

Sebastian freezes, not kissing back but not pushing him away either, and his lips are warm and soft against Stefano’s, and it feels good because he is choosing Sebastian.  He wants Sebastian, and no one is threatening or forcing him to do this, and he can’t think of one other time he’s kissed anyone since he started working for Slade.

 

He steps back, momentarily satisfied, maybe even proud, but then it hits him.  There are consequences to his actions, and there are going to be major consequences for this action in particular.  He turns and strides purposefully toward Riker’s SUV, because to look back or do anything else would only make things worse.

 

Riker is silent as Stefano gets in and closes the door behind him.  His hands grip the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearms bulging, and his eyes are trained straight ahead.  He doesn’t speak, doesn’t even look at Stefano as he throws the vehicle into gear and pulls out of the motel parking lot.  They drive for about two blocks before Riker pulls over into a vacant lot, drives around behind a long abandoned building, and stops the SUV.

 

Now Stefano is the one staring straight ahead, waiting for the explosion.  He supposes that he could apologize, could try to explain himself, but that has never made a difference in the past, and he doesn’t see why it would now, and he isn’t actually sorry at all.  Then Riker’s hand is moving toward him, and he reflexively turns his head away, so that when Riker grabs a handful of his hair and slams his head into the dashboard, the left side of his face takes the force of the blow.

 

Pain rips through his head, the smell of blood clouding his senses, as he turns to look at Riker in shock.  Slade has very few rules for his staff, but Stefano knows that one of them is about making sure not to damage the escorts’ faces.  It is for that reason that Riker usually punishes him with punches and kicks to the torso, where the damage is less apparent to clients, at least initially.

 

Riker’s face is contorted with rage, and Stefano barely has time to turn his head away before Riker is grabbing him again and slamming his face down two more times.  Stefano’s head is swimming, and he can’t react fast enough, and the pain multiplies each time his already damaged face smashes into the dashboard.  No sooner does Riker release him than he has fisted a hand in Stefano’s shirtfront and lifted him halfway out of his seat.

 

“What the hell was that?” Riker snarls, giving Stefano a shake.

 

Stefano doesn’t answer.  He has no explanation.  What he did was foolish and dangerous, but he doesn’t regret it.

 

Riker shoves him back against the door of the vehicle.  “How much did that guy fucking pay you for that?”  He releases Stefano’s shirt, and Stefano fumbles in his pocket for the money Sebastian gave him to preserve their cover.  He hands it to Riker.

 

Riker counts it out, stuffs it into his own pocket and grabs Stefano by the throat this time, shoving him back so hard that his head strikes the window.  Stefano’s vision swims, and for a moment he is afraid that he is going to black out.

 

“He paid you for the hour and you fucking kiss him?”  Riker’s face suggests that kissing Sebastian is somehow more shocking than the hundreds of other revolting things he’s seen Stefano do when servicing clients, that he has sometimes physically forced Stefano to do when servicing clients.

 

Riker lets go of Stefano, resting his elbow on top of the steering wheel.  “He must be something pretty fucking special.”  The leer Riker is giving him now is all too familiar.  “How big is his dick?”

 

Stefano has to restrain himself from rolling his eye, because of course that is what Riker would assume is special about Sebastian.  That is Riker’s only way to measure the worth of a man beyond brute strength and ability to dominate others.  Unfortunately, Stefano doesn’t have any experience with that particular part of Sebastian.

 

“I don’t know,” he says trying to keep his voice calm, even though his cheek and forehead are throbbing and tears are stinging his eye.

 

Riker shoves him back against the door with both hands this time.  “What do you mean you don’t know?  How could you be in there for an hour and not fucking know?  What the hell was he doing to you?”

 

Stefano averts his eye and keeps silent, because there is no right answer to this question.

 

Riker releases him, turns to face forward again.  “God damn it, Stefano,” he growls as he throws the SUV back into gear.

 

The ride to Slade’s is tense and silent, and when they pull up outside the house, Riker grabs his upper arm in an iron grip.

 

“You belong to me,” he says, fixing Stefano with an unwavering stare.  “No matter how many other men have had you, you belong to me.  Don’t you ever forget that.”

 

Stefano nods.  There is no other response.

 

Riker lets go of his arm.  “Now go get some ice on your face,” he adds.  “It’s already starting to swell.”

 

Stefano gets out of the vehicle and starts back up the sidewalk to Slade’s house with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  He belongs to Slade, and he belongs to Riker, and nothing can change that, but he relishes these tiny acts of rebellion.

 

 

 


	16. Day 16- Bedridden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- minor illness
> 
> This one is a continuation of #8 Fever.

 

 

Stefano should be relieved that Sebastian has finally admitted he is sick and allowed Stefano to take him to their local clinic to get him tested for the flu.  The test is positive of course, and Stefano should be relieved that Sebastian doesn’t ask for a second opinion, even though he is muttering about it on their way out the door.  He should be relieved that Sebastian lets him pick up his prescriptions and buy him crackers and sports drinks and take him home.  He isn’t though, because Sebastian is the worst patient in the history of the universe.

 

In Sebastian’s defense, his symptoms are making him completely miserable: the chills, the sweats, the cough, the muscle aches.  He spends the entire first night trying to snuggle with Stefano, or more accurately, trying to steal Stefano’s body heat, but Stefano can’t even be upset because his shivering is so pathetic.  It takes a lot of blankets and a lot of cuddling before Sebastian finally settles down.

 

During the day, Sebastian spends most of his time inventing reasons to get out of bed.

 

“The doctor said you are on bed rest for three days,” Stefano reminds him, when he comes into the room to see that Sebastian is seated on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor.

 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Sebastian says, voice raspy from the coughing.

 

“You went ten minutes ago,” Stefano reminds him, raising an eyebrow, because Sebastian did indeed make a trip to the bathroom very recently.

 

“I have to make Lily breakfast,” Sebastian offers.

 

“I already made her breakfast and packed her lunch and put her on the bus, and she doesn’t need your flu germs,” Stefano says, hoping to head off Sebastian’s next couple of excuses.

 

There is a long pause, during which Stefano can almost hear Sebastian’s brain doing calculations.

 

“I have to go to the bathroom again,” Sebastian says finally.

 

“Oh, you do not,” groans Stefano, because this is not an argument he should be having with a grown man.  “Come now, I will lie down with you,” he says, trying to maneuver Sebastian back into bed.

 

Sebastian grumbles a little under his breath, but ends up lying on his side with his back to Stefano.  Lying down with Sebastian is one of the only effective ways of keeping him in bed, which is why Stefano finds himself climbing into bed fully clothed in the middle of the day and wrapping his arms around Sebastian’s middle.  Sebastian shivers and presses back against him.

 

“Are you cold?” Stefano asks, concerned that they need more blankets.

 

“No,” Sebastian answers.  “This is nice.  Maybe I should get sick more often.”

 

“No,” Stefano replies, maybe a bit too quickly.  “You should not.”

 

Sebastian starts to laugh, but it abruptly turns into a coughing fit, and Stefano can only rub his back while he coughs violently.

 

When the coughing subsides, Stefano asks, “Would you perhaps consider taking some of that cough medicine now?”

 

“No,” Sebastian replies hoarsely.  “It tastes bad.  Rather just cough.”

 

Stefano sighs.  It is going to be a very long three days.

 

Sebastian is coughing so much the second night that neither one of them can sleep.  They put some extra pillows under Sebastian’s head, and Stefano makes several pitches for the cough medicine that he thinks are very compelling, but what seals the deal is when Lily taps on their bedroom door and asks if Sebastian is okay.  Apparently the thought that he is keeping Lily awake is enough to convince Sebastian to take the cough medicine, though it happens with much whining and moaning and colorful descriptions of what the medicine tastes like.

 

Sebastian is much more settled after that, and sleeps through the rest of the night and until mid-morning.  The rest seems to have done him some good, because at least his excuses for why he needs to get up are more creative.

 

“I need to call the office,” he says.

 

Stefano picks his cell phone up from the bedside table and hands it to him.  Sebastian’s face falls.

 

“It’s trash day,” he says, looking hopefully up at Stefano.

 

“Already put it out,” Stefano says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed since it seems that this might go on for a while.

 

“And the recycling?” Sebastian asks.  Stefano nods.

 

“What about the lawn?”

 

“You are not mowing the lawn,” Stefano says firmly.  “Just lie down and think about getting well.”

 

“I need to walk around,” Sebastian says.  Suddenly his face lights up.  “You don’t want me to get a blood clot, do you?”

 

“Sebastian, you are not going to get a blood clot,” Stefano says, his exasperation coming through.  “Now lie down.”

 

“I can’t,” Sebastian groans.  “Everything hurts.”

 

“Would you like me to massage you?” Stefano asks, because Sebastian has been complaining about a lot of aches and pains today.

 

Sebastian seems to consider this for a minute.  “Okay,” he says finally, flopping down on his stomach.  “But this isn’t over.”

 

Stefano smiles in spite of himself.  Of course it isn’t over.  Sebastian will have a new set of excuses in an hour or so.  He moves to kneel on the bed next to Sebastian, running his hands up and down his back as Sebastian shivers again.  He starts at Sebastian’s shoulder blades, working the muscles under his hands until they are soft and supple and Sebastian is making little noises of pleasure.  He is working his way farther down Sebastian’s back when Sebastian speaks.

 

“Hey Stefano,” he says, voice muffled by his pillow.

 

“Yes?” Stefano answers.

 

“Thanks for taking such good care of me.”

 

“Of course my dear,” Stefano replies, hands still kneading at Sebastian’s muscles.  “And I hope you will return the favor.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sebastian asks.

 

“It means that you’ve been coughing and sneezing on me for two days,” Stefano replies simply.

 

Sebastian laughs, managing to avoid coughing this time.  “Yeah, I’ve got you covered.”

 

 

 


	17. Day 17- Drugged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- nsfw, explicit language, hand job, sex pollen

 

 

Over time in STEM, Sebastian has grown used to shoving random syringes filled with unidentified substances into his arms, so he doesn’t think twice about using the one he finds as he sprints down the main street of the Union Business District.  A small crowd of Lost are bearing down on him, and he’s taken a couple of hits already, and he just needs that extra boost to make it to the safe house.

 

He plunges the needle into his arm and feels the drug surge through his veins.  The effect is immediate.  The burst of speed hits him like a lightning strike, and he surges forward, legs pumping furiously as he sprints behind the bank, across the grass, and up to the door of the post office safe house.  He yanks the door open, dashes to the secure door, and darts in, slamming it behind him.

 

Stefano looks up from his seat on the couch.  “You certainly seem to be in a hurry,” he says, nonchalant as ever, and goes back to polishing the lens of his camera.

 

Sebastian is doubled over, hands on his knees and gasping for breath, unable to make any kind of retort.  He can feel the syringe working, healing his wounds and restoring his stamina, and after a few seconds he breathes a little easier and stands up straight.  He feels almost one hundred percent better, and all he needs now is a cup of coffee.

 

He has taken about one step toward the coffeemaker when he realizes that he feels somewhat more than one hundred percent better, and that in fact the drug is having an unusual effect on his body.  He freezes in place, takes a deep breath, and tries to get himself under control.

 

There is nothing even remotely arousing about this situation, but Sebastian suddenly finds that his pants feel much too tight, that the material is rubbing him in just the right place.  There is heat pooling in his groin, and he can feel his heart beating faster, and he just needs a minute to collect himself, because there is no reason for him to be having this reaction now.

 

“Is something the matter?” Stefano asks from behind him.

 

“No.”  Sebastian forces his voice to be neutral, so much that it sounds suspicious, even to him.  What is happening to him and why now, in front of Stefano, who is never going to let him hear the end of it?

 

“Are you sure?” Stefano persists.  “Why are you just standing there?”

 

Sebastian is just standing there because he can feel the heat and the pressure between his legs and is now sure that his predicament would be obvious to Stefano if he was to turn around, but Stefano clearly isn’t going to leave him alone.  “Well, maybe we do have a little problem,” he says finally.

 

His cock is achingly hard in his pants now, and the need for some kind of friction is becoming unbearable.  He holds perfectly still as Stefano approaches and circles around in front of him.

 

“Oh my,” Stefano says, his eye going immediately to the front of Sebastian’s pants.  He swallows hard.  “Is that what you call a ‘little’ problem?”

 

Sebastian burns, actually hurts from needing to be touched so badly, and he snaps back, “I don’t know!  I don’t know what the fuck is happening to me!”

 

“Now Sebastian,” Stefano says with a raised eyebrow and the beginnings of a smirk.  “Didn’t they show you that video in school about your changing body?”

 

“Damn it, Stefano!” Sebastian snarls, lunging forward and pinning Stefano to the wall behind him.  He means to impress upon Stefano that this is no laughing matter, but instead he just finds himself pressed up against Stefano, his poor, neglected cock rubbing on Stefano’s hip.  He gasps and presses closer, letting go of Stefano so that he can place his hands on the wall and concentrate on rutting against Stefano’s hip, which feels absolutely perfect right now.

 

A small noise, maybe a moan, from Stefano brings him back to his senses, and he pushes away from the wall and steps back abruptly.  “Holy shit, Stefano.  I am so sorry-” he begins, but then he takes in the look on Stefano’s face: mouth slightly open, pupil dilated with lust, and chest heaving with each breath.

 

“Fuck,” he groans, and lunges forward again, grinding himself against Stefano, who is grabbing his ass and moaning right along with him.  He rubs and presses and thrusts, but it just isn’t enough, and he is practically out of his mind by the time Stefano works a hand in between them.

 

It takes every ounce of his self-control to back off for a moment so that Stefano can unzip and unbutton his pants, but then Stefano’s hand is wrapped fully around him, squeezing and stroking, and Sebastian is biting down on his fist to keep from screaming.  It is rough and urgent and everything Sebastian needs right now, and he is giving himself over completely to Stefano, collapsing to his knees and then down on his back on the floor, so that he can brace himself and thrust up into Stefano’s grasp like a mindless animal.

 

Stefano follows him down, works him expertly with a strong, confident hand, and every pump of his fist makes Sebastian burn hotter and groan and struggle and beg for more.  And Stefano gives him more, gives him everything, and a few strokes later, the heat and the pleasure is all rushing over him at once, rushing out of him as he gives one more rough thrust and slumps back down to the floor.

 

Stefano’s hand is on his hip.  “Are you alright, Sebastian?” he asks.  It’s a pretty stupid question really.

 

“I’m fucking fantastic,” Sebastian slurs out in his post-orgasmic daze.

 

“Do you think that’s all of it?” Stefano asks.

 

“Maybe,” Sebastian answers.  “But we could always try to find another syringe.”

 

Stefano only laughs and gives him a squeeze.

 

 

 

 

After Stefano has cleaned Sebastian up a little and tucked him back into his trousers, he remains seated on the floor beside him because he now has a very pressing problem of his own.  He blames Sebastian entirely of course.  Sebastian is the one who came back to the safehouse out of breath and flushed with arousal, who rubbed up against him with the rough, frantic thrusts of an animal in heat, and then climaxed at Stefano’s hand after producing some of the most enticing sounds Stefano has ever heard.

 

Which explains why Stefano is now rock hard inside his trousers, his cock aching for some kind of contact.  He fancies himself a bit more sophisticated than this.  At minimum, he generally prefers a bed or something soft if he is going to engage in any kind of intimacy, but Sebastian’s display of raw strength and lust and need has the blood pounding in his veins.

 

He palms the front of his own trousers, desperate for release.  He has half a mind to find another syringe, inject Sebastian with it, and then lie back and let Sebastian pound him into the floor, but thinking these kinds of thoughts is only making him harder.

 

Sebastian unfortunately seems to be indisposed at the moment.  His hands are covering his face, though Stefano can see that his ears are flushing red.

 

“Sebastian,” Stefano says, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.  Sebastian jerks away as though he’s been burned.

 

“Shit, Stefano, I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice somewhat muffled by his hands.  “I don’t know what came over me.  I really do think it was something in one of those syringes.”  Even when Sebastian stops speaking, his hands are resolutely clamped over his face.

 

“Sebastian,” Stefano says again, taking hold of his wrists and applying enough force to pull Sebastian’s hands away.  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Sebastian replies with his eyes fixed on the ceiling overhead.  “You didn’t just-”

 

“Sebastian, look at me!” Stefano snaps, releasing Sebastian’s wrists to gesture at his groin.

 

Sebastian’s eyes follow his hand.  “Oh…” Sebastian breathes, gazing at the front of Stefano’s trousers with interest.  “Can I… can I help you with that?”

 

Stefano is about to tell Sebastian that he had damn well better help him with that, but Sebastian has proven himself to be somewhat of a proud man, and Stefano desperately needs to climax, so he swallows his own pride and replies, “Yes, please.”

 

Sebastian swallows hard, eyes still fixed on the bulge in Stefano’s pants as he pulls himself up into a sitting position, scooting over so that his back is against the wall.  “Come here,” he says, offering his hand to Stefano.

 

Stefano doesn’t need to be told twice and takes Sebastian’s hand so that Sebastian can guide him to sit between his legs.  It has been some time since Stefano has been with a man, and even the feeling of Sebastian’s broad chest against his back, even through their clothes, is exciting, and then Sebastian’s hand is on his cock, palming him firmly through the material as Sebastian’s other arm wraps tightly around his chest.

 

He gasps, letting his legs fall open as he arches up into Sebastian’s palm.  He feels Sebastian’s lips on his neck, which is unexpected but not unwelcome.

 

“Please,” he whispers as Sebastian’s beard tickles his skin.  Then Sebastian bites down on his neck and gives his cock a rough squeeze, and there is a dizzying rush of heat and pleasure.  He opens his mouth but no sound comes out.

 

Sebastian backs off, kisses the place where his teeth were almost apologetically, and then uses both of his hands to undo the fastening of Stefano’s trousers.  It is all Stefano can do not to squirm as he waits for Sebastian to free his cock, but once his pants and underwear are pulled down past his knees and Sebastian’s hands are on his bare skin, everything is worth it.

 

The floor is cold underneath him, but Sebastian gathers him up, pulls him even more into his lap, so that he is resting against Sebastian rather than the floor.  Sebastian slips one hand behind his knee, and the other finally, finally finds his cock, which is standing at attention and flushed an angry red.

 

Sebastian doesn’t waste any time.  His grip is firm, and his strokes are long and smooth, and before Stefano knows it, his head is lolling back onto Sebastian’s shoulder and his hips are pressing up into Sebastian’s hand.

 

“What do you want, Stefano?” Sebastian growls in his ear, and the quality of his voice, that small reminder of the animal side of Sebastian, only makes him burn hotter.  It is not what he wants.  It is what he needs, and he needs to climax, needs Sebastian to squeeze and rub and take him just a little farther.

 

“Do you want me to suck you off?” Sebastian asks, and Stefano moans, because that sounds spectacular, but Sebastian’s hand on him just feels so good that he doesn’t want that to stop either.

 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Sebastian asks, pulling back on his knee for emphasis, spreading his legs apart, and the thought of Sebastian fucking him, rough and sweaty and desperate the way that Sebastian fucked his hand, sends a hot jolt of pleasure straight to his cock.

 

He feels lightheaded, and Sebastian is biting him again, and it hurts so beautifully, makes him jerk forward into Sebastian’s fist, so warm and so tight, and he is arching up, his climax washing over him as he gasps out Sebastian’s name.

 

He drifts, comes back down slowly, still cradled in Sebastian’s arms.  He is warm and comfortable and so relaxed, and he turns his face toward Sebastian’s to press his lips to Sebastian’s cheek, until Sebastian shifts and their lips meet.

 

Stefano smiles into the kiss.  Maybe Sebastian isn’t such an animal after all.

 

 

 


	18. Day 18- Hostage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- canon typical violence, canonical character death, explicit language

 

 

Mobius took everything from him.

 

When Kidman wheels Sebastian into the STEM room and he sees the pod for the first time, he is almost overcome with rage.  It makes his blood boil, makes him clench his fists so hard that his fingernails dig into his palms to see what they’ve done to Lily.  He struggles, fights against the bonds that hold him to the wheelchair, because he is in the same room with his little girl for the first time in five years, but he can’t see her, can’t touch her, can’t hold her.  This must be what it's like to go insane.

 

Most of Kidman’s explanation of the new STEM system goes in one ear and out the other.  It doesn’t matter.  Nothing matters now except Lily.  And Kidman has to know that, has to know the position she’s put him in.  She could ask anything of him now and he’d do it for the chance of seeing Lily again.

 

He barely hears her instructions as he climbs into the STEM pod.  It feels oddly familiar, sends a chill down his spine as he remembers what happened the last time he was in STEM, but that doesn’t matter either.  He’d face it all again.  He’d face it all a hundred times over if it was for Lily.  Kidman counts down and he is falling, and if something goes wrong, if he never makes it out of here, at least he did the right thing this time.

 

Union is a fucking mess, and it makes Sebastian’s skin crawl to think that Lily’s mind is somehow tied in to all of this, that her innocence is being sullied, polluted by the filth of all of these other minds, by the rot and decay that are spreading through Union in the wake of this disaster.  Even if he can get to Lily, she’s going to be damaged, affected by her time in STEM.

 

Hoffman makes him angrier than anything, because Hoffman is barely human.  She is cool and detached and speaks without emotion about studying Lily, about her performance on aptitude tests, about selecting her as the Core.  Sebastian’s first instinct is to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze the life out of her, but he may still need her help to rescue Lily, so he forces that urge back down and manages to get by with only a few biting remarks.

 

Talking to the Mobius operatives tells him something he should have known already, something that he probably knew on some level.  He is not being offered a chance to rescue Lily.  He is being offered a chance to see his daughter again in exchange for ‘re-establishing the Core’, and even if he finds Lily, even if he can keep Lily safe, Mobius won’t let them escape.  Mobius is too powerful, and Mobius holds Lily’s life in its hands, and now Sebastian’s life as well.

 

When he arrives at City Hall and meets the artist, his worries for Lily increase tenfold, because this man has an agenda for Lily beyond anything even Mobius has attempted.  His twisted art is the product of his twisted mind, but also of Lily’s fear, and it makes Sebastian sick to look at it.  Lily must be so afraid, so alone, thinking that no one is coming to help her, that her nightmare is never going to end.

 

It is not until later in his room, when Sebastian is reading the information that Kidman has gathered on Stefano, that he begins to understand the full scope of Mobius’ operation and the extent of Mobius’ lies -the sleep studies, the Mu religious center-, all fronts that sought out people with no family and no ties to others, people who wouldn’t be missed, and lured them into their science experiment.  Maybe Stefano isn’t the one who is twisted after all.

 

When he reaches the theatre, Sebastian must admit that Stefano is a formidable opponent.  Sebastian is running out of ammunition and running out of stamina after what feels like an hour of dodging blows from the Aperture.  He is also running out of hope that this is a fight he can win, but he cannot rest, cannot give up, has to keep trying, because this is for Lily.

 

He takes a moment to collect himself, but it costs him dearly as Stefano appears suddenly in front of him in a flash of blue light, and Stefano’s knife is sinking into his shoulder.  He staggers, starts to reach for his gun, but knows that Stefano will simply teleport out of the path of the bullet.  He is lost, and the fight is lost, and Lily is slipping away from him, when he reaches for his own knife and plunges it into Stefano’s chest.

 

Stefano’s mouth opens, and a look of shock flashes across his face before he drops to his knees and then slumps over onto the ground.  Sebastian pulls Stefano’s knife out of his shoulder with a grunt and stands over him, waiting to see if he is going to get up again, but Stefano only gasps for air and extends a hand to Sebastian.

 

Sebastian eyes it with suspicion, but Stefano is struggling to breathe, and this doesn’t look like an act, so he cautiously crouches down, taking Stefano’s hand.

 

Stefano’s fingers close weakly around his.  “He won’t…give up her power…” he gasps.  “They won’t…give up…her power…”

 

“I know,” Sebastian says.  “They control everything.  I don’t know how to escape from here.”

 

“Only…one way…to escape…from here.”  Stefano’s voice comes out in between rough, gurgling breaths.  His eye comes to rest on Sebastian.  “Thank you,” he whispers.

 

Sebastian waits until Stefano’s hand has gone slack before he places it on Stefano’s chest and rises to his feet.  Stefano has to be wrong.  There must be some other way to escape from here.  He looks down one more time at Stefano, lifeless on the floor.

 

Mobius took everything from him.

 

 

 


	19. Day 19- Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No warnings, just domestic Stefseb fluff

 

 

Sometimes when inspiration strikes, Stefano can go for days without food or water or sleep.  His physical body matters so little when his artistic vision is finally coming through on the canvas or the photograph or out of his raw materials.  The exhilaration, the dizzying high when he finds the perfect way to express what is inside him is unparalleled, and it surges over any feelings of hunger or thirst or fatigue, rushing through him like lightning in his veins.

 

He knows, when he has developed the final photograph, that he has created something magnificent, and he hangs it in his darkroom so that it will be the first thing he sees when he comes back down in the morning…unless it already is the morning.

 

He is about to look at his watch when he hears footsteps on the basement stairs and then a soft tap on the door.  He wants to say something, but he is too strung-out, heart pounding wildly.  His head is still buzzing with the intensity of creation, and there is no way to express himself except in his art.

 

The door opens and Sebastian steps in.  “Hi,” he says quietly.  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.  It’s late.”

 

Stefano nods frantically, because he is okay.  He is more than okay, but the familiar sight of Sebastian is cooling his creative urge and letting some other feelings rise to the surface, and suddenly his legs don’t want to hold him up anymore, and he finds himself swooning forward.

 

Sebastian catches him, props him back up on his feet with steadying hands, and peers at him with concern.  “You’ve been down here all day,” he says.  “And you missed dinner, and it’s three in the morning.  Let me take you upstairs.”

 

Stefano nods again and lets himself fall into Sebastian’s arms, because whatever he just did was amazing but he can’t even form a coherent sentence, so there’s no way he can show it to Sebastian until later.  Sebastian scoops him up bridal-style, and Stefano lets his eye close and his head loll onto Sebastian’s shoulder as Sebastian slowly climbs the stairs.

 

When they reach the first floor, Sebastian turns his head and murmurs, “Do you think you can eat something?  I can heat up some leftovers.”

 

Stefano shakes his head, pressing his face into Sebastian’s neck, because even though Sebastian is a surprisingly good cook, food just doesn’t sound as good as his bed and his pillows and cuddling up with Sebastian.

 

“Okay,” Sebastian says.  “Bed it is.”  And Stefano smiles against his neck, because Sebastian always knows what he needs.

 

Stefano finds himself drifting off a little, wrapped in the warmth of Sebastian’s arms and the scent of his aftershave, as Sebastian climbs the stairs to the second floor, slowly and carefully to avoid waking Lily.  Then Sebastian is setting him down in a sitting position on the edge of their bed.

 

“Hold on a minute,” Sebastian says, and gives him a pat on the knee before leaving the room.

 

Stefano’s eye is so tired that his vision is blurred, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring anything into sharper focus.  The bed is soft under him, and his head is tilting forward, and he jerks awake when Sebastian enters the room and presses a glass of water into his hand.

 

“Drink this,” Sebastian says.  “So you won’t be so dehydrated.”

 

Stefano really doesn’t have the energy to drink anything, but he does remember the last time he woke up with a splitting headache and Sebastian insisted it was because he was dehydrated.  It was awful, and that is enough to motivate him to attempt to raise the glass to his lips.

 

He is still having trouble keeping his eye open though, and he feels Sebastian’s hand on his, steadying the glass so that he can take a sip.  As soon as the water hits his tongue, he realizes that there may be something to Sebastian’s theory, because water has never tasted this good.

 

He finishes the glass with Sebastian’s help, and then Sebastian is setting it aside and kneeling in front of him to remove his shoes and socks.  He intends to shoo Sebastian away, telling him that he is perfectly capable of undressing himself thank you, except that his shooing motion turns into more of a lazy pat on the head, and Sebastian laughs and keeps working on his clothes.  When he has Stefano stripped down to his underwear, he pulls back the covers and helps Stefano under them, and Stefano’s head is swimming, because this is all softness and warmth, and he should probably say something, but he still can’t make his mouth work properly.

 

Sebastian tucks the covers around him and presses a kiss to his forehead.  “Go to sleep,” he whispers.  “I’ll be right back.”

 

Stefano must have dozed off, because the next thing he is aware of is the bed dipping beside him, and it’s dark in the bedroom, but he can smell Sebastian, can feel Sebastian curling himself around him, throwing an arm over him, and pulling him close so that he can kiss his shoulder and the back of his neck.

 

“I want to see what you were working on tomorrow,” Sebastian says, his voice a low rumble in Stefano’s ear.  “It must be pretty amazing if it kept you up this late.”

 

Stefano shivers in excitement at Sebastian’s words, because the thought of sharing his work is so delicious that it almost pulls him back out of his sleep… almost.  The fire of creation has cooled, and exhaustion wins out, because he is simply too comfortable to be worried about anything at the moment besides his pillow and his blankets and Sebastian.

 

He sighs, pressing himself back into Sebastian so that their bodies are touching at every possible point and feels Sebastian’s grip tighten around him in response.

 

“Sleep,” Sebastian murmurs, placing another kiss just behind his ear.  Stefano sleeps.

 

 

 


	20. Day 20- Concussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- head injury

 

 

“Do you mind?” Stefano asks, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian, whose face is approximately three inches away from his.

 

“Not at all,” Sebastian says dreamily without moving.

 

Stefano sighs deeply and takes a step back from the desk where he is trying to repair his camera.  “Did you injure your head?” he asks.

 

Sebastian blinks at him uncomprehendingly.

 

As irritated as he is, Stefano tries to slow down.  “When that explosive bolt went off next to us, did you injure your head?”

 

Sebastian slowly raises his hand to touch the top of his head, but doesn’t speak.

 

“Oh for god’s sake,” Stefano groans, because he does not have time to deal with a loopy Sebastian on top of everything else.

 

This is actually all Sebastian’s fault in the first place.  They were in a heated battle with a pack of the Lost when Sebastian fired an explosive bolt at one of them.  This wouldn’t have been such a problem, except that the Lost then sprinted toward them with the explosive bolt still lodged in its chest, and despite their attempts to evade it, they were definitely within range when the bolt detonated.

 

Stefano’s primary concern, once he realized that he and Sebastian were still in one piece, was the fact that his camera had shattered when he hit the ground.  The camera would still be his primary concern except that he can’t repair it while Sebastian is so determined to invade his personal space.

 

“Can you find something else to do?” Stefano asks him.

 

“No,” Sebastian says.

 

Stefano rolls his eye, because of course now Sebastian remembers how to speak.  He takes Sebastian by the hand and leads him over to the couch, grateful that they are in Hoffman’s safehouse.  “Sit here,” he says.  “I’ll be right back.”

 

He starts to walk back to the desk, but Sebastian’s hand is around his wrist.  “Please don’t leave,” he says in a small voice.  “I’ll be alone.”

 

Stefano wants to laugh at Sebastian’s foolishness and turn on his heel and get back to working on his camera, but Sebastian is staring up at him with those soft brown eyes, and his expression is so relaxed and so open and so different from the proud, often surly man that he’s been bickering with for several hours.

 

“Sebastian,” Stefano says, trying to tug his arm away, but he can feel his resolve crumbling.  He is intrigued by this other side of Sebastian, and he can’t pass up a chance to explore this new canvas.  Besides, Sebastian clearly isn’t going to let him get anything done.

 

Stefano sits down beside him on the couch, and Sebastian beams at him.

 

“How do you feel?” Stefano asks.

 

“My head hurts,” Sebastian says, bowing his head and moving it toward Stefano as if to show it to him.  Stefano takes Sebastian’s head in his hands, mostly to keep Sebastian from head-butting him in the chest, and Sebastian goes still, letting the weight of his head rest on Stefano.

 

“You probably have a concussion,” Stefano says, more to himself than to Sebastian.  Head injuries were fairly common on the battlefield after explosions, though of course they were often overlooked in favor of addressing more urgent traumatic injuries.  Stefano remembers his own quite well, the pain and disorientation and fear.  Fortunately, Sebastian doesn’t seem to be very bothered by his at all.  In fact, he is slowly slumping over into Stefano’s lap.

 

“Sebastian,” Stefano says firmly.  “I do not think you should sleep at the moment.”

 

“But I’m so tired,” Sebastian whines.

 

“Why don’t you lie down and talk to me for a few minutes?” Stefano suggests, hoping that talking will keep Sebastian engaged enough that he won’t doze off.

 

“Okay,” Sebastian says.  Stefano scoots down to one end of the couch, and Sebastian arranges himself with his head in Stefano’s lap.  “Talk about what?” he asks, speech coming out a little slurred.

 

Stefano realizes at that moment that he knows almost nothing about Sebastian and has no idea what topic might engage him.  However, he has learned in his dealings with other people that asking a parent about their child is usually an effective strategy, and perhaps talking about Lily will bring Sebastian back to their mission.

 

“Tell me about Lily,” he says.

 

Sebastian smiles again, and his expression is so relaxed and so unabashedly happy that Stefano can’t help but smile as well.

 

“Lily is amazing,” Sebastian says, his voice still a little dreamy.  “I mean, you know.  You met her.”

 

“Yes,” Stefano says.  “She is an exceptional child.”  He suspects that his reasons for finding Lily exceptional are somewhat different than Sebastian’s, but that isn’t important at the moment.

 

“Did she…” Sebastian’s voice trails off, and Stefano is about to wake him up again when he says, “Did she say anything about me?”

 

His voice breaks, and there are tears shining in his eyes, and Stefano brings a hand to his forehead, lets it smooth back his hair, because seeing Sebastian upset is making him a little uncomfortable himself.

 

“Of course she did,” Stefano answers.  It’s a lie, but he doesn’t want Sebastian to cry anymore.  It isn’t helping them make any progress toward their goal, and Stefano doesn’t really know how to react to it.  His fingers comb gently through Sebastian’s hair as he struggles to come up with something Lily might say.

 

“She said that you were going to come and save her, and that I wouldn’t be able to stop you,” he offers, hoping that Sebastian will believe it.

 

Sebastian smiles again, though the tears are running down his face now.  “That sounds like her,” he says.

 

Stefano uses his thumb to brush the tears away, and just as he finishes, Sebastian grabs his hand.

 

“We’re going to find her, right?” he asks, staring up at Stefano with an intensity that he hasn’t displayed since the explosion.

 

“Yes,” Stefano replies.  “Of course, we are.”  This time, he hopes he isn’t telling Sebastian another lie.

 

 

 


	21. Day 21- Harsh Climate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- explicit language, minor heat-related injuries

 

 

Sebastian doesn’t even like the summer in Krimson City.  It’s hot and humid, and he can never seem to take enough of his clothes off to get comfortable before someone (usually Myra or Joseph) is yelling at him to put them back on.  There are pools and sprinklers and cold showers of course, but it doesn’t seem worth the effort when he knows that after five minutes outside he’ll be dry and hot again.  He would just stay inside all day with the air conditioner running, but then he starts going stir crazy from being stuck in the house.

 

And now the sky is on fucking fire.

 

At first, it was just a dramatic visual change in the environment, a sign from Theodore that he is now in control, but as he and Stefano continue to make their way through the business district, Sebastian is starting to appreciate the full effect of being so close to open flames.

 

First of all, it is staggeringly, swelteringly hot.  Stefano is already down to his shirt sleeves, which are rolled up above his elbows, and Sebastian doesn’t think it’s really an option to remove any of his own clothes, but he certainly wishes that he could.  He is a little concerned that the material might be starting to melt and adhere to his skin.

 

Which brings him to his next problem- he is pretty sure he is being literally roasted alive.  His skin is already hot and redder than usual, like a particularly angry sunburn.  It isn’t splitting or blistering yet, but Sebastian is afraid that it will be soon.  He glances over at Stefano, who might be in even worse shape, as pale as his skin is.  Stefano looks about like Sebastian feels: sweaty and miserable.

 

The situation gets worse, if that is even possible, when one of Theodore’s fire disciples spots them and they have to dash into the bushes for cover.  They escape the enemy without difficulty, but the added strain of running pushes Sebastian to his limit.

 

The fire disciple goes stomping back to its post after it fails to locate them.  Sebastian and Stefano stand up, and for a few seconds, Sebastian actually contemplates asking Stefano to shoot him with a freeze bolt.  His brain tries to point out that this would be fatal, but his body is willing to take that chance.  At the moment, cooling off seems more important that his continued survival, or maybe his brain is just slowly cooking inside his skull.

 

“Do you think we could go to the safehouse?” Stefano asks, wiping sweat from his face.  “I think I need to get away from the flames for a few minutes.”

 

Sebastian’s knee jerk reaction is to tell Stefano to fuck off, but that’s probably just the heatstroke talking.  After a moment’s thought, he realizes that seeking shelter is not a bad idea.

 

“Sure, there’s one over there,” he replies, pointing across the street.

 

He leads the way to Sykes’ safe house.  Luckily they don’t meet any enemies, though the heat from the flames beating down on Sebastian as he crosses the parking lot nearly kills him anyway.  His head is spinning by the time he reaches the safehouse door, and he misses the handle on his first attempt.

 

Stefano opens it for him, and they stagger down the hall together to the secure door and into the room beyond.  It is still approximately ten thousand degrees in here, but at least Sebastian doesn’t feel like he is actively being burned, as he does outside.  He collapses to the cement floor, which is probably warm, but still feels cooler than his body temperature.

 

Stefano lies down next to him.  “I am not sure this is an improvement,” he observes.

 

“No kidding,” Sebastian replies.  “I feel like I’m in a god damn microwave.”  Sebastian wouldn’t describe himself as claustrophobic, but being so overheated in an enclosed space is starting to get to him.

 

He is too hot and too exhausted to move much, but he turns his head to the side to look at Stefano who is lying there with his eye closed, taking deep slow breaths.  The skin on Stefano’s arm is actually starting to blister, and Sebastian winces in sympathy. 

 

“We’re going to have to be more careful,” Sebastian says.

 

“Hmmm?” Stefano replies, opening his eye and turning his head toward Sebastian.

 

Sebastian gestures to his arm.  “You’re already medium-rare.”  It’s a terrible joke, but Stefano chuckles, and then outright laughs, and then Sebastian is laughing too, and they are both lying on the floor laughing like idiots until Sebastian realizes that vigorous laughter is probably not helping him cool down at all.

 

“What are we going to do?” Stefano asks once his laughter subsides.  “We have to go back out.”

 

“Yes,” Sebastian says, “but we need to move faster, maybe take cover in buildings so we’re less exposed.  And roll your sleeves down.  That’ll at least protect some of your skin.”

 

Stefano nods solemnly, taking great care as he rolls his sleeves down over skin that must already be very painful.

 

“Ready to get back out there?” Sebastian asks.

 

“I don’t think I will ever be ready,” Stefano replies, “but I don’t see how waiting here will improve the situation at all.”

 

“That’s true,” Sebastian says, sitting up.  “Might as well get moving.”

 

They both rise to their feet with much stumbling and swaying and muffled swearing, and make their way back through the secure door to the outer door.  Sebastian grabs the handle and turns to look at Stefano, who gives him a nod.

 

Sebastian takes a deep breath, opens the door and steps out into the parking lot.  The hot dry air sucks the breath out of his lungs, almost staggers him immediately, but he keeps his feet and so does Stefano, and they start moving across the parking lot in the direction of Theodore’s stronghold.

 

If this isn’t hell, Sebastian thinks, it has to be pretty damn close.

 

 

 


	22. Day 22- Friendly Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- explicit language, canon typical violence

 

 

After their first encounter with Theodore’s harbingers, Sebastian and Stefano have developed a fairly effective system for dealing with them using the blue boxes from Stefano’s camera, plus Stefano’s knife and Sebastian’s shotgun.  It has served them well in dispatching the first two harbingers, but things go off the rails a bit when they decide to take on the third one, or rather, when the third one catches sight of them ducking behind the corner of a building and sprints after them bellowing something about cleansing and flames.

 

Stefano is poised at the corner waiting to capture it with his camera as soon as it comes around, but when the harbinger emerges, it has already begun to swing its flamethrower in a wide arc, which knocks Stefano back against the building and throws Sebastian to the ground.  The harbinger steps right up to Sebastian’s prone form, leveling the flamethrower at him, and Stefano feels something that is surprisingly like panic.

 

He doesn’t think, just phases right in front of the harbinger, thrusting his knife effortlessly into the side of its neck.  Almost simultaneously, he hears the gunshot and feels a sharp, stinging pain blossoming through his right thigh.

 

“Fuck!” Sebastian yells from the ground behind him.  “Sorry- fuck!”

 

Sebastian is scrambling to his feet, switching out his handgun for the magnum, and Stefano knows that things are serious if the magnum is coming out.  He yanks his knife from the harbinger’s neck and tries to phase out of the way, but the pain in his leg breaks his concentration, and he just ends up stumbling back against the building.

 

Sebastian puts three magnum rounds into the harbinger’s chest and one into its head before it finally goes down, and Stefano’s ears are ringing by the time Sebastian races to his side, grabbing his arm.

 

“Are you okay?” Sebastian is almost shouting, but Stefano can barely hear him.  “Can you walk?”  He doesn’t even wait for an answer before he grabs Stefano’s arm and pulls it over his shoulder.  “Let’s get you back to the safehouse.”

 

Stefano has suffered far worse than a single gunshot wound, but it does hurt, and the pain only intensifies with each step he takes.  They aren’t even halfway back to the safehouse yet and his muscles are screaming in protest.  He staggers, but Sebastian just takes up the slack, wrapping his other arm around Stefano’s waist.  “I’ve got you,” he says, and they continue back to the safehouse in the center of the business district as though they are running some sort of three-legged race.

 

Once they are past the secure door, Stefano goes immediately to a chair and starts to sink down into it.  He regrets it the instant he makes contact with the seat, because it brings a fresh stab of pain to his wounded leg.  He jerks himself back to his feet and settles for leaning his elbows on one of the tables, trying to transfer some of his weight to his arms.

 

Sebastian is at his side right away.  “Here, let me take a look,” he says, hands travelling to the fastenings of Stefano’s trousers.

 

“Can’t you just use one of those magic syringes you are always going on about?” Stefano asks through gritted teeth, because he has had to listen to Sebastian extol the virtues of the syringes on numerous occasions.  “Or are you so eager to have me out of my trousers?”

 

That comment seems to give Sebastian some pause, because he pulls his hands away quickly and takes a step back.  “Oh… umm… right.  I guess we could do that,” he replies, fumbling with the supplies on his belt.

 

Stefano wants to tell him to hurry up, because he is in fact still in excruciating pain, and if Sebastian wasn’t so trigger-happy, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place.  He shifts his weight onto his other leg and takes a few deep breaths, because he head is starting to spin a little.  He doesn’t often faint, but being so close to gunfire coupled with the pain of his injury is dredging up some unpleasant memories, and he needs Sebastian to fix this quickly before they can take hold.

 

Fortunately, Sebastian has managed to get organized and is now brandishing a syringe at him.  “I need your arm,” he says, reaching for Stefano’s clothes.  Once has Stefano’s jacket and shirt sleeve out of the way, he slips the needle into the muscle of Stefano’s upper arm.

 

The injection doesn’t even register over the pain in his leg, but quite suddenly that pain is fading to a dull ache, and then to a tiny prickle of his nerve endings.

 

He straightens up a bit and breathes easier as the pain subsides.  Sebastian takes his arm and helps him into the chair, and this time he is able to sit down much more comfortably.  Sebastian is still looking at him with concern, but Stefano is feeling well enough to take up more pressing matters, or one matter in particular.

 

“And what exactly happened out there?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian.

 

“I was trying to defend myself!” Sebastian shoots back.  “How the hell was I supposed to know you were going to get in between us?”

 

There is a pause of several seconds before Sebastian adds.  “Why did you get in between us?”

 

He looks down at Stefano, who is frantically searching his mind for the reason why he attempted to insert himself between Sebastian and certain death.  He hates it, doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but it seems that some part of him doesn’t want to see Sebastian hurt.

 

Sebastian has apparently finished searching his face and come to the same conclusion, because the corner of his mouth twitches up into a half smile.  “Be careful.  People might start thinking you actually care about me.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Stefano replies with a carefully formulated sneer.  “It won’t happen again.”

 

It’s a lie, and they both know it.

 

 

 


	23. Day 23- Self-Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- canonical character death

 

 

Sebastian wakes up just after dawn, while Stefano is sleeping peacefully beside him and the door to Lily’s room is still closed, and tiptoes downstairs to start the coffeemaker.  Once he has his mug of hot coffee in hand, he stands in front of the sliding glass door, staring out into the backyard, which is blanketed in snow.  He stares because if he looks hard enough, if he lets his eyes slip out of focus, the snow becomes thick, white wax and their yard becomes the landscape of another world.  He stares because in moments like this one, he remembers.

 

He doesn’t always let himself remember.  In fact, he often finds himself actively suppressing the memories, but, alone with his thoughts and his coffee, he invites them back in.

 

Myra wouldn’t have wanted to be forgotten.  She would certainly have wanted him and Lily to live their lives without the shadow of her death hanging over them, but she wouldn’t have wanted to be forgotten.  So Sebastian remembers.

 

He remembers the day he met Myra, the day he knew he was in love with her, their wedding day, the day Lily was born, and every day in between, every little moment they had together, every seemingly insignificant detail.  He remembers her favorite song and the way she like her coffee and what part of a funny movie could make her laugh until she cried.

 

He remembers the day they thought Lily died, and the long, lonely days after that- days when they were both too lost in their own misery to support each other.  Those were the days when Myra started to drift away from him, to conduct her own investigation, and he can’t help but feel that if they had been working together instead of against each other, things might have turned out differently.  He blames himself sometimes, but not Myra, never Myra.

 

And it seems that Myra didn’t blame him either.  He remembers Myra appearing to him in their house, their house that shouldn’t exist anymore, their house that burned down, remembers Myra forgiving him, telling him how brave he was, urging him to rescue Lily.  He knew what she was saying was important, but it was so hard to listen, to focus on anything other than seeing his wife for the first time in years.

 

He remembers Myra standing before him in front of their house, the same house that shouldn’t exist, vowing to protect Lily, telling Sebastian that he would never defeat her.  He remembers fighting Myra, every blow to her body striking him as well, a physical ache in his chest that grew as the fight went on, as he systematically destroyed the woman he loved.

 

He remembers pulling her body from the white liquid, carrying her to the shore, and laying her down.  She spoke to him then as well, urging him to leave her behind, to go to Lily.  Her words hurt him, chipped away at his resolve, but he knew she was right.

 

He remembers kissing her goodbye in their house one last time, holding their child in his arms, before he turned and walked out the door on heavy feet and with a heavy heart.  He wanted to go back.  He almost went back, but once Union began to collapse around them, there was no other choice.

 

He wishes Myra could have left with them or, barring that, he wishes he could have been there with her in her final moments.  But Myra was alone, as she had been the whole time.

 

Myra was alone when she refused to accept Lily’s death.  She was alone when she tracked down Mobius and joined up with them to have a chance of seeing her daughter again.  And she was alone for years of preparation, for the development of STEM, years spent watching Lily grow up without being able to free her from her imprisonment.  Sebastian doesn’t know whether to be jealous of her or not, though in the end, he is glad that Lily has memories of her mother.

 

Sebastian wonders sometimes if he could have done what Myra did, infiltrating Mobius and biding his time until an opportunity presented itself.  But Myra was the patient one.  Myra was the planner, and Myra’s plan, though complicated and dangerous, was what saved Lily’s life in the end.

 

Of course, Myra’s plan also ended her own life, but Sebastian is sure that she didn’t hesitate.  In her place, he wouldn’t have hesitated either, because Lily is everything.  Lily is everything to Sebastian and she was everything to Myra, and there is no doubt in Sebastian’s mind that Myra would be happy with how things turned out.

 

Sebastian smiles to himself as the sun climbs higher in the sky, reflecting off of the snow.  Maybe Myra wouldn’t have envisioned them living with Stefano of all people, but he is sure she wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that Stefano is good for him, and Stefano is good for Lily, and it was Myra’s sacrifice that made all of this possible after all.

 

Sebastian raises his mug in a silent toast to Myra.  She gave him his life back.  She gave him Lily back.  His eyes burn, and there is a lump in his throat, but he remembers.

 

He is aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, of the footsteps on the stairs, of the footsteps behind him, before Stefano’s hand slips into his free one.  He squeezes it, not even trying to hide the tears in his eyes.  He doesn’t have to with Stefano.

 

Stefano squeezes back.  “She must have been exceptional,” he says, as Sebastian sips his coffee.

 

“She was,” he says.

 

There are more soft footsteps, and Lily’s arms are wrapped around his waist.  Sebastian hands off his coffee to Stefano, so that he can wrap an arm around her as well, and the three of them stand, staring out into the snow, as the words echo in Sebastian’s head.

 

_Thank you._

 

 

 


	24. Day 24- Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- drowning, near-death

 

 

Stefano knows they are in serious trouble the moment Lily appears, rising up out of the strange black water they are walking through, or maybe walking on.  This particular part of Theodore’s realm seems unfinished, almost like the Marrow, and all they can see in every direction is the deep, wet darkness until suddenly that darkness splits apart and Lily is standing before them.

 

“Lily!” Sebastian shouts.  He dashes forward, even as Stefano calls out, tries to warn him that this is clearly one of Theodore’s tricks.  Predictably, Sebastian ignores him.

 

Lily sinks down below the surface almost as suddenly as she appeared, and Sebastian is diving in after her.  Stefano is momentarily surprised that the water there is actually deep enough to dive into, because he was expecting to see Sebastian crash into the floor as he pursued the illusion of Lily.

 

Slightly alarmed by this new development, Stefano dashes over to where Sebastian disappeared, and even though he is still standing on the same floor he has come to expect in this place, he can see Sebastian below it, as though he is looking through a pane of glass at him.  Sebastian is still diving down, arms outstretched as he reaches for Lily, but Lily slips through his fingers, sinking deeper and deeper until she disappears entirely.

 

It is only then that Sebastian rights himself and begins to swim toward Stefano, as Stefano realizes with some alarm that there is now a solid barrier between them and he has no idea how Sebastian is going to get out of there.

 

Sebastian reaches the barrier and presses his palms against it, looking at Stefano in confusion.  The confusion quickly turns into panic, and Sebastian is pounding on the barrier with his fists, eyes wide and frightened.  Stefano can feel the fear rising up inside him as well- a cold, twisting feeling in his stomach-, and soon he is striking the barrier with his own fists and even trying to stab his knife into it.

 

It doesn’t budge or crack or weaken in any way, and Sebastian’s eyes are terrified as he struggles against it, fights not to inhale underwater, but fails.  Then his hands are at his throat, fingers scrabbling over his skin as his mouth opens and closes frantically.

 

Stefano suddenly remembers his camera, and he isn’t sure if it will help in this situation, but it is worth a try, so he pulls it out, points it at Sebastian, and presses the button.  Immediately, Sebastian goes still inside the blue box, but more importantly, the barrier between them vanishes, and Stefano is able to reach through and grab hold of Sebastian, pulling him out onto the semi-dry land beside him.

 

“Sebastian?” he says sharply, giving Sebastian’s shoulder a shake.  Sebastian is limp and wet and doesn’t respond at all.  For all Stefano knows, he might be dead, but Stefano isn’t willing to accept that just yet.

 

He arranges Sebastian flat on his back and does his best to remember the basic first aid training from his military days.  He tilts Sebastian’s head back, pinches his nostrils closed, takes a deep breath, and then seals his own mouth over Sebastian’s.

 

He exhales hard, checks to make sure that Sebastian’s chest is rising as he does so, and takes another breath to start again.  He gives Sebastian a second breath, a third, and a fourth, before Sebastian convulses and his head jerks up off the ground, and Stefano sits back to give him a chance to cough weakly.

 

“That’s it,” Stefano says, helping to turn Sebastian onto his side.  “Cough.  Clear the water out of your lungs.”

 

Sebastian coughs and gags and spews water out of his mouth, and Stefano feels his own insides twitch in sympathy.  Sebastian’s coughs are getting stronger and stronger, but he still sounds utterly miserable, and Stefano can only support him and pat him on the back and urge him to continue coughing.

 

Finally, Sebastian hacks up some more water and draws something that resembles a normal breath.  Stefano helps him to sit up fully, keeping a hand on Sebastian’s back for support.

 

“Thanks,” Sebastian says, after sucking in a great lungful of air.  “Don’t know… what the hell… happened.”

 

Stefano smiles indulgently.  “You fell for one of Theodore’s illusions again,” he says with a sigh.  “How many times do I have to tell you not to believe anything you see in here?”

 

“It was her, Stefano,” Sebastian insists.  “It was Lily.”

 

“Theodore doesn’t have Lily,” Stefano reminds him, though his patience is waning.  “We know that.  He is only using visions of her to manipulate you, and he almost succeeding in convincing you to drown yourself.”  He rubs Sebastian’s back as he adds.  “You must be more careful, or you may not survive next time.”

 

“Right,” Sebastian says.  “Thank you.  That was some quick thinking with the camera.”

 

Stefano feels a smile spreading across his face, because it was some very quick thinking after all, and it saved Sebastian’s life, and Sebastian’s life is becoming unexpectedly important to Stefano.  “It was a last resort,” he admits, “though clearly it was effective in this situation.”

 

He probably doesn’t need to continue to rub Sebastian’s back as Sebastian gets his breathing under control, but he does anyway, enjoying the way Sebastian’s muscles feel under his hand, the way Sebastian lets out a little sigh and relaxes back into him.

 

Even with his ‘act before thinking’ mentality, his utter refusal to listen to reason, and his dogged determination to be killed in one of Theodore’s mind games, Sebastian is intriguing to Stefano, and Stefano certainly hopes that he will survive long enough for them to get to know each other a bit better.

 

Sebastian turns to look over his shoulder at Stefano.  “I guess next you’ll be saying that I should start listening to you.”

 

Stefano smirks at him.  “Only if you want to survive,” he says.  His hand is still making circles on Sebastian’s back.

 

 

 


	25. Day 25- Restraints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- nonconsensual bondage, rape, references to drug use, hurt/no comfort, no Sebastian
> 
> This story takes place in the Soft Focus universe.

 

 

The ceiling is dirty and cracking in places.  Stefano has memorized every single one of those cracks, every stain, every imperfection.  He stays lost in them for as long as he can, until he can’t bear it anymore and he has to close his eye, because once he has retreated inside his own head, he can’t come out again.

 

He could turn his head to either side of course.  His head is not restrained the way that the rest of his body is.  Thick leather cuffs hold his arms to the table at his sides, and he is also strapped down at the middle of his chest and at his waist.  His legs are restrained at the knee and ankle, spread apart and fastened to the stirrups at the end of the table.

 

He could turn his head, but he doesn’t want to see what Riker is doing in his peripheral vision, doesn’t want to see the various tools and implements that he can hear being laid out on the smaller table down by his feet.  He remembers when he used to watch Riker’s every move, when he thought that somehow that would help him to prepare himself.  Now he believes that sometimes it is better not to look, not to know what is coming.

 

The restraints, as impressive as they are, are entirely superfluous.  He cannot disobey Riker or Slade or, by extension, any of Slade’s clients, any more than he can grow wings and fly from this miserable station in life.  Certainly the restraints suppress any reflexive jerks or movements he might make when the pain becomes too intense, but moving in any meaningful way is not an option.  He will stay here and submit and endure, because Riker tells him to.

 

Sometimes Riker will leave him untethered and command him not to move, not to make a sound, because Riker likes to watch him struggle against his own instincts, against his own body, as Riker bends and stretches and molds him in ever more painful ways.  But just as often, he likes to see Stefano physically helpless, afraid, and utterly vulnerable to whatever he would do to him.

 

Other times, if Riker wants to embarrass him, to intensify the feeling of vulnerability, he will call for others to help him.  Young and Lance are all too happy to hold him down, roughly pinning his body to the table with their own body weight, and forcing him into whatever position Riker prefers.  Jay is inscrutable as always, and Murphy always looks away, as though he can’t bear to watch.  These other eyes on him, the knowledge that they are seeing what vile and degrading things Riker is doing to his body, often pushes him to close his own eye and retreat into himself.  It is easier that way.

 

This time though, Riker is apparently content to terrorize him in private, because he is relying on the thick leather straps to hold him in place.  Stefano shifts slightly in his bonds.  His wrists and ankles are already rubbed raw from the last time he was on this table, and he is sure that he is going to be bleeding before this is done.

 

“Hey!” Riker says, slapping him hard on the thigh.  “Hold still.  If you behave yourself, I just might have a reward for you.”

 

Stefano stills, even though he was barely moving to start with.  He does want the reward, very much, because the drugs promise calm and relaxation and freedom from pain, or at least, less pain than he would be in without them, and he needs those moments.  He wishes Riker would drug him before he does whatever he is planning, but he knows that Riker won’t be so kind.

 

The drugs interfere with his reactions, and Riker lives for those reactions: the fear that Stefano can’t hide when Riker shows him some new toy or object and tells him what he is going to use it for, the pain of his body being forced to do things it was not designed to do, the sickening, reluctant pleasure that Stefano fights so hard, but that Riker is so determined to give him.

 

The times that Riker decides to pleasure him are even worse than the pain, because at least pain is a proper thing to be feeling when he is being used like this.  Pain is normal.  Pain is safe.  But sometimes Riker will speak to him like a lover, will tell him how good he is going to make him feel, before roughly stroking and squeezing his cock, or driving slick fingers into his prostate over and over again, and his body doesn’t know how to handle that, can’t process the sensory input that he is receiving.

 

In those moments, everything is too tender, too sensitive, right on the edge of hurting, and he feels disgusted with himself, because he doesn’t want this.  He doesn’t want his body to respond as it does, and it is sick and wrong and he must be broken somehow, because he shouldn’t be able to feel pleasure from this.

 

He is lost in thought, eyes trained on the ceiling, when Riker leans into his field of vision.  There is a ball gag in his hand.

 

“Open,” Riker says, and Stefano obediently opens his mouth.  To refuse would only result in a much worse injury.

 

Riker pushes the ball into his mouth and fastens the straps behind his head.  “There,” he says.  “Wouldn’t want you to disturb the others.”

 

Then he steps away and Stefano goes back to looking at the ceiling again, his jaw being painfully stretched open by the ball.  He isn’t sure who exactly they would be disturbing.  All of the escorts are used to the sounds of this place, the screams and the sobs and the harsh laughter of Slade and his men.  He tries to relax, but his jaw is already beginning to throb.

 

“Okay,” Riker says.  “Let’s get started.”

 

Stefano closes his eye.

 

 

 


	26. Day 26- Broken Ribs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- explicit language, injury

 

 

Sebastian has already been at the hospital for an hour when Stefano and Lily storm into his room.  He has also been on a drip of some pretty good drugs, good enough that he didn’t mind all of the x-rays and scans and poking and prodding they’ve been doing to him here.  He remembers, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he hates hospitals, but he can’t be bothered by that at the moment.

 

“Dad!  What happened?” Lily asks, rushing to his side and throwing her arms around his neck.

 

“Careful,” Sebastian cautions, because even through the pleasant haze of painkillers, he is aware of some pain in his chest.

 

Lily steps back.  “Why?  Are you contagious?”

 

“No, sweetie,” Sebastian replies with a smile.  “I just have some broken ribs, so I’m probably not up to any strenuous hugging right now.”

 

“Oh,” Lily says, taking his hand in both of hers.  “Okay, I’ll be careful.”

 

Sebastian glances up at Stefano, whose expression is equal parts relief and anger.

 

“You couldn’t have called to tell us this?” Stefano asks.  “So we would have known where you were?  So we wouldn’t have assumed you were dead?”

 

“Only you assumed he was dead,” Lily says, looking over her shoulder at Stefano.  “I knew he’d be fine.”

 

“Well, he isn’t exactly fine,” grumbles Stefano.  His eye travels back to Sebastian’s face.  “How did you break your ribs?”

 

Sebastian looks down at his lap, because even though the painkillers make everything warm and fuzzy, he knows this is kind of an embarrassing story.  “I got hit by a car,” he mumbles.

 

“You what?” snaps Stefano, at the same time as Lily gasps and clutches his hand tighter.

 

“I know, I know,” Sebastian says.  “But that’s what happened.”

 

“How did you manage that?” Stefano asks, sounding less horrified and more interested now.

 

“I was on a job, trailing this guy through the city, and I guess I just wasn’t paying attention,” he replies.  “Next thing I knew, I was lying on my back on the street, and someone had called an ambulance.”

 

“Does it hurt?” Lily asks.

 

“A little,” Sebastian replies, “but they’ve got me on some pretty good drugs here.”

 

 

 

Sebastian doesn’t fully appreciate those drugs until he is back at home and they are out of his system, because when he wakes up the next morning, he is in so much pain that he can’t even move.  He is lying on his back in their bed, but his chest feels like it is being pierced by knives.

 

He then makes the mistake of attempting to breathe, which drives the knives in even deeper all up and down his torso, and his next breath is more of an undignified whimper.

 

Stefano immediately stirs beside him and props himself up on an elbow to fix him with a worried look.  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

 

“Hurts,” Sebastian whispers, trying to use his lungs as little as possible.

 

“I’m going to get your pills,” Stefano says, slipping out of bed and going to the dresser where he has carefully lined up the prescription bottles that came home with Sebastian.

 

Sebastian waits patiently, trying to keep his breaths shallow, as Stefano gets the medication and goes to the bathroom for a glass of water.  When he returns, he sets the pills and water on the night table and eyes Sebastian skeptically.  “Are you going to be able to sit up?”

 

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replies, because he hadn’t considered that, and now that Stefano mentions it, this is probably going to hurt a whole fucking lot.

 

“Do you want me to help you?” asks Stefano.

 

“Yeah, I think you might need to.”

 

Stefano steps in close to Sebastian’s side of the bed and slips his hands under Sebastian’s arms.  “On three,” he says.  “One, two-”

 

Three is lost in an explosion of pain as Sebastian pushes himself into a sitting position with Stefano’s help.  He almost screams, but manages to stifle it into a sort of groan.  And then Stefano is sitting on the bed next to him, hands gently stroking his face as he whispers apologies.

 

“It’s alright,” Sebastian finally grits out, once he has himself under control again.  “But I really hope the pills will help.”

 

“I’m sure they will,” Stefano says soothingly as he hands them to Sebastian, followed by the glass of water.

 

Sebastian swallows them down and sets the glass back on the bedside table, then wonders what on earth he is supposed to do while he waits for them to kick in.

 

Stefano’s hand is on his thigh.  “Is there something I can do?” he asks.

 

“Maybe talk to me?” Sebastian suggests.  “Just distract me for a while.”

 

So Stefano talks, and once they have established that he can’t say anything that will make Sebastian laugh, the conversation is really quite pleasant, and within a half-hour, the medication is taking effect and Sebastian can breathe again.

 

 

 

They do a better job keeping up with his pills over the next few days, but Sebastian is becoming painfully aware of how many times a day he hugs Stefano and Lily, because hugging has become excruciating for him.

 

Lily and Stefano have been doing their best to help.  They will hold his hand or ruffle his hair or rub his shoulders, but for Sebastian there is no substitute for a full-contact hug.

 

He is watching TV one night, Lily’s head resting on his lap as she lies beside him on the couch, and he is almost overwhelmed with the urge to gather her up in his arms, even though he knows how much it would hurt him.

 

Just as he is contemplating doing it anyway, he feels Stefano’s hands on his shoulders.  Stefano leans over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms carefully around Sebastian’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

 

“Give it another week,” Stefano murmurs, and Sebastian smiles.  With care like this, he can probably make it one more week.

 

 

 


	27. Day 27- "I can't walk."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- mentions of death

 

 

Waking up in a bathtub full of tepid water, hooked up to all sorts of life support machines and monitoring devices, is disconcerting to say the least.  Stefano didn’t know what to expect when he and Sebastian and Lily left STEM, and there was no time for explanations, just a frantic rush to Sebastian’s room and several very tense radio transmissions from Kidman before he felt himself being yanked into the void again.

 

When he opens his eye in the real world, or at least, what he tells himself must be the real world, he is in a dark room where the stench of death hangs heavy in the air.  Stefano is familiar with the smell, both from the battlefield and other, more recent, experiences, and it is not something that bothers him in particular.  This time, however, the sheer intensity is overwhelming, and the scent and the darkness close in, press down on him until he is afraid he will go mad.

 

His first impulse is to disconnect himself from all of the machines, ripping monitors from around his chest and tubes from his veins until he is free.  He leans back against the tub, panting with exertion and wondering how on earth simply moving his arms could exhaust him like this, before he realizes that he hasn’t actually moved in years.

 

He runs his hands over his arms and legs, suddenly glad that it is dark, because he can tell, simply from how his body feels, that he is not the man he was, that his muscles have atrophied.  The physique he spent years cultivating, the strength he once possessed on the battlefield, is gone.

 

He tries to move one of his legs and finds that he can, but as soon as he attempts to push himself up, to actually bear his own weight, he is collapsing back into the tub with a huff.  He is now faced with a very real problem.  If no one comes along to help him, he isn’t sure that he can make any meaningful progress toward escaping this room.

 

He remembers being with Sebastian and Lily, but he has no idea where they are, whether they are even in this building, whether they might be in another city, miles and miles away.  This wasn’t part of the plan.  He wasn’t part of the plan, and what if Sebastian isn’t willing to go any farther out of his way to help him?  What if Sebastian is just going to take Lily and go?

 

Stefano’s heart accelerates as scenarios play out in his head, because of course Lily is Sebastian’s first priority.  Sebastian has made that abundantly clear, and Sebastian could easily have been working with Stefano only to improve his own odds of getting Lily out of STEM.  Of course Sebastian doesn’t care about him, and Stefano is a fool for thinking otherwise.  He leans back against the tub, heart racing as he struggles to draw breath.  His chest is tight and his head is spinning, and he is going to die here alone, in the dark, surrounded by dead men.

 

But Sebastian promised.

 

Stefano takes a deep breath, because he does clearly remember this.  Sebastian promised that he would help Stefano escape from STEM and escape from Mobius, and Sebastian talked about how he and Stefano and Lily would start their life together.  He doesn’t think Sebastian would lie to him about that, but he also doesn’t know if Sebastian knew what to expect upon leaving STEM, if Sebastian even knows where he is at this moment.

 

Sebastian must be frantic as well.  No sooner has this thought crossed his mind then a heavy door swings open somewhere nearby.

 

“Stefano?” Sebastian’s voice calls.

 

“Sebastian,” Stefano croaks.

 

He doesn’t recognize his own voice.  It is hoarse and weak, as though his vocal chords have grown rusty from disuse.  It resonates strangely inside his head, as though he is underwater or maybe about to faint.  It can’t be his voice, but it is coming out of his throat.

 

Fortunately, it seems that even his diminished voice is loud enough for Sebastian to locate him, because in the next moment he is being blinded by a flashlight, and Sebastian is leaning over the tub, running his hands up and down Stefano’s arms as if to confirm that Stefano is really there.  Stefano doesn’t mind at all.  He is too relieved that Sebastian is really there, that Sebastian is able to reach out and touch him, that Sebastian hasn’t abandoned him.

 

But Sebastian seems to be alone.  “Lily?” Stefano gasps out.

 

“She’s with Kidman,” Sebastian says.  “She’s alright.”

 

Sebastian’s hand has traveled back up to Stefano’s face, and now his thumb traces Stefano’s cheek gently.  It’s a more intimate touch than Stefano has allowed up to this point, but Sebastian seems so earnest in his relief and his affection and his desire to comfort that Stefano lets it go.  Besides, his skin is tingling a little bit where Sebastian touched him, and he doesn’t know whether it is the result of not having been touched in a very long time or something else entirely.

 

“What about you?” Sebastian asks, letting his hand drop from Stefano’s face to his shoulder.  “How are you feeling?”

 

“I can’t walk,” Stefano croaks, wondering how much of an obstacle that will be to their escape, wondering whether he has finally become enough of a burden to Sebastian that Sebastian won’t want to help him anymore.

 

“It’s okay,” Sebastian says warmly, and then his arms are around Stefano, slipping behind his back and under his knees, and he is lifting him out of the tub and holding him against his chest.  “We’re not going to let a little thing like that stop us.”

 

Stefano closes his eye and relaxes into Sebastian’s shoulder.  He is exhausted, but he knows he is safe with Sebastian.  Safety may not be a familiar feeling to him, but it is one that he is coming to appreciate.

 

 

 


	28. Day 28- Severe Illness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- terminal illness, suicidal thoughts

 

 

Sebastian could see the signs before anyone else.  He pointed them out, just casually, but Lily would always tell him that he was short of breath because he smoked for so many years, or Stefano would point out that his hoarse voice was probably because he just got over the flu, and Sebastian didn’t pursue these ideas any further, because he wanted to believe them.  After all, they were pretty reasonable explanations.

 

But those things didn’t explain why some days he wouldn’t eat at all.  He didn’t feel sick, and he was perfectly happy to make breakfast for Lily and Stefano, but he simply wasn’t interested in food himself.

 

“I’m just not hungry right now,” he would tell them.  “I’ll eat later.”  That usually earned him a suspicious look, but when he was back to eating the next day, they would smile and look relieved and everything would return to normal.

 

Those things also didn’t explain why some days he was too weak to get out of bed.  The first time it happened Stefano thought he was joking, but when he realized that Sebastian really wasn’t going to get up, he lay down with him and held him and told him that he’d been working too hard and needed to take a break.

 

And then there is the day that they stop ignoring the signs.  Lily is upstairs in her room, and Sebastian is sitting on the couch reading the newspaper.  Stefano walks in and hands him a mug of coffee, sitting down next to him on the couch and sipping his own.

 

“You’re losing weight,” Stefano says.  Sebastian opens his mouth to protest, but when he looks at Stefano’s expression, what he sees there isn’t the playful edge Stefano has when he is trying to get him to take care of himself.  It isn’t even concern.  It’s fear.

 

Sebastian swallows hard.  “Yeah, maybe a little.”  He has noticed that his clothes are fitting more loosely, that he doesn’t seem to be as strong as he was even a few months ago.

 

“We need to make an appointment.”  Stefano’s tone is mild but firm.

 

Now Sebastian does protest.  “I don’t need a doctor,” he says, the hoarse, raspy quality of his own voice making him wince a little.  “I just need to take some time off.  I’ve been working a lot, and-”

 

“Sebastian.”  Stefano places a hand on his knee, looking at him with an imploring gaze.

 

Sebastian sighs.  “Okay, let’s make one this week.”

 

“I already did,” Stefano says.  His tone is apologetic, but there is still fear in his eye, and Sebastian can’t bring himself to be angry.

 

 

 

The doctor visit goes exactly as Sebastian expected.  They need to run additional diagnostics, but with Sebastian’s history and symptoms, lung cancer is the prime suspect.  The doctor also warns him that his symptoms suggest it’s fairly advanced, and once they get the results of the diagnostics, they are probably going to have to make some difficult decisions.

 

When the doctor leaves the room, Stefano takes his hand and squeezes it, but Sebastian feels nothing.

 

Then it’s over to the lab for bloodwork and the imaging center for x-rays and scans, and by the time everything is done, Sebastian is exhausted and can’t think about anything besides curling up in his own bed.  The ride home is silent.  Sebastian goes straight up to his room, and he is asleep when, hours later, Stefano comes to bed.

 

The next two days pass in relative normalcy, though he does catch Stefano or Lily giving him sidelong glances more often than usual.  He only forces a smile and wishes there was something he could say to reassure them, but there is nothing.

 

 

 

When he gets the call to return to the doctor’s office, he already knows what the news is going to be.  He contemplates just going on his own so that he doesn’t have to burden Stefano with this, but he knows that to do so would only hurt Stefano in the end, so they go back together, and of course it’s lung cancer and it’s advanced.  Sebastian doesn’t feel like making any decisions at all right now, but suddenly they are all being thrust at him.

 

If it was up to him, he’d go back home and die quietly alone in his bed, but of course, he isn’t alone.  He has Lily and Stefano, and they mean more to him than anything, and if there is any chance that he could have more time with them, if he could see Lily graduate high school or see Stefano’s next gallery opening, then he will do whatever it takes to make that happen.

 

Whatever it takes turns out to be almost more than he can endure, and he quickly loses track of everything that is going on.  There is some kind of surgery, but when he wakes up it is even harder to breathe than it was before.  There are drugs- so, so many drugs- and most days he still can’t get out of bed.

 

Stefano and Lily are with him constantly, both in the hospital and at home, and he is sure that if they weren’t he would have ended it already.  There is a gun in his bedside table, and it would be easy, so easy, but Lily and Stefano are counting on him, and he has to do this for them.  He is so weak and everything hurts and some days he can’t even manage a smile for Lily and it makes him sick.

 

 

 

“You’re going to take care of Lily, right?” he asks Stefano one day when Stefano is sitting at his bedside, gently running his fingers through Sebastian’s thinning hair.  “When I’m-”

 

“Don’t,” Stefano says, bringing a finger to Sebastian’s lips.  “Don’t say things like that.  You are going to be here to take care of Lily.”

 

Sebastian locks eyes with him, holds his gaze until Stefano looks away.

 

“Of course I’ll take care of her,” Stefano whispers.

 

 

 


	29. Day 29- Seizure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- seizure

 

 

It’s a sunny fall Sunday morning, and the house is perfectly quiet.  Lily is sleeping over with a friend, and Sebastian is sipping coffee at the kitchen table.  He is a little concerned that he woke up alone this morning, but when he went to check on Stefano before going to bed, Stefano was deeply engrossed in his photographs, and waved him off with a muttered promise to come upstairs soon.

 

It isn’t unusual for Stefano to stay up all night, but Sebastian wishes he wouldn’t do it.  Stefano has a tendency to work until the point of exhaustion, and even Sebastian’s attempts to coax him up to bed are often ineffective.  Sebastian is just thinking about what tactic to employ to convince Stefano to join him for breakfast when he hears a heavy thump from downstairs.

 

“Stefano?” he calls, but there is only silence.  Clearly Stefano has either dropped something large or somehow fallen himself, so Sebastian abandons his coffee, rushes to the basement door, and yanks it open.

 

“Stefano?” he calls again, this time not even waiting for a response before he is taking the steps three or four at a time, which turns out to be a mistake because the steps are narrow to begin with.  He catches himself on the railing and manages to arrive at the bottom of the stairs on his feet, though his heart and his adrenaline are pumping, both from worry for Stefano and his own near-accident.

 

He pushes aside the curtain that leads to Stefano’s dark room, and his heart leaps into his throat, because Stefano is splayed out on the floor, limbs moving jerkily as he is clearly in the throes of some kind of seizure.

 

Sebastian has never been more thankful for his emergency response training, because even though his mind immediately shuts off at seeing the man he loves unresponsive on the floor, his body guides him through the proper steps anyway.

 

His brain is full of static and the pounding of his own heart and Stefano’s name is spilling from his lips over and over again, but his legs carry him to Stefano’s side and his hands move the stool and the table away so that Stefano can’t injure himself by crashing into them.  Then his legs are taking him to the couch behind the other curtain and then back to Stefano’s side with a throw pillow in hand.

 

His mind is still reeling as his hands carefully grasp Stefano’s shoulders, turn him onto his back, and arrange the pillow under his head.  Stefano’s eye is closed, but his facial muscles are moving spastically along with the rest of his body, and Sebastian can only crouch by his head, steadying it gently to make sure he doesn’t strike it on the floor, and wait for the violent jerking of his limbs to calm.

 

After what seems like ages, but is probably more like sixty seconds, Stefano goes limp, only minor twitches tugging at his limbs, and Sebastian sucks in a deep breath.  He realizes he’s been talking this whole time, though not anything that makes sense, just quiet words of comfort, and now he can finally breathe again.  His heart is slowing down, and his hands aren’t shaking quite as much, and Stefano is blinking slowly and looking up at him in confusion.

 

“It’s alright,” Sebastian murmurs, hands still cradling Stefano’s head.  “I think you had a seizure.”

 

“What?” Stefano asks, voice a little slurred.  “Why?”

 

Sebastian casts about in his mind.  He and Stefano have lived together for years now, and he’s never seen him do this before.  “Maybe low blood sugar?” he suggests.  “When was the last time you ate something?”

 

Stefano appears to be lost in thought, which is enough of an answer for Sebastian.

 

“Don’t move,” he says.  “I’ll be right back.”

 

He leans down to kiss Stefano on the forehead before he gets to his feet and jogs upstairs to the kitchen.  Their first aid kit doesn’t have glucose gel or tablets in it, but there is some honey in one of the cupboards, so he grabs that and a spoon and heads back downstairs, making sure to actually use the steps this time.

 

Stefano is lying just as he left him, though he now has his arms crossed over his chest and looks mildly annoyed, probably because he has realized that he was interrupted in the middle of creating his art.

 

“Can you sit up a little?” Sebastian asks, already slipping his hands under Stefano’s arms and lifting his torso up.  He sits down behind Stefano and pulls him back against his chest.  Stefano seems like he might be going to protest for a moment, but then he relaxes into Sebastian with a sigh.

 

“Here,” Sebastian says, reaching for the honey and pouring some of it into the spoon.

 

“Are you quite serious?” Stefano asks, his voice much more controlled now.  “Is this your idea of medical care?  Cuddling and honey?”

 

Sebastian snorts in laughter, because as far as he is concerned, that sounds like a pretty good approach.  “It’ll get your blood sugar back up,” he explains.

 

He can’t see Stefano’s face at the moment, but he is pretty sure there is some eye-rolling going on.  Even so, Stefano takes the spoon from him and puts it in his mouth.  He pulls it out a second later with a flourish, as if to demonstrate to Sebastian that he has actually consumed the honey, and Sebastian breathes a sigh of relief to see some of his artistic flair coming back.

 

“What do we do now?” Stefano asks.

 

“Rest for a while,” Sebastian says, wrapping his arms around Stefano.  “And hope it was just your blood sugar.  Probably go to the doctor for some tests to be on the safe side.”

 

Stefano nods, letting his head fall back against Sebastian’s shoulder.

 

“And one more thing,” Sebastian says.  “Maybe no more all-nighters.”

 

“No promises,” Stefano says, turning to kiss him on the cheek.

 

 

 


	30. Day 30- Caregiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- terminal illness, suicidal thoughts, dark thoughts in general
> 
> This is really unpleasant and would likely be triggering if you've had to care for someone with terminal illness, so feel free to skip.

 

 

_Why can’t you just die already?_

 

The thought springs unbidden into Stefano’s head when he sees Sebastian laid out in their bed, chest rising and falling with shallow, rapid breaths.  It is a horrible thing to think, and he doesn’t even know how his brain came up with that.

 

It is not because taking care of Sebastian is now his fulltime job.  It is not because he has had to temporarily close his studio and reassign his duties at the museum.  It is not because he is now the one who is responsible for making sure Lily gets to school and soccer practice and that she doesn’t stay out too late with her friends. Lily is a mature, responsible young lady, and she doesn’t need a lot of supervision, but when she does, Stefano is there.

 

It is not because Sebastian needs his help with literally everything.  It is not because he has to feed him and bathe him and help him use the restroom, because he would do all of those things gladly.  And he does.  He talks quietly to Sebastian while he does them, even when Sebastian is too weak or too withdrawn into himself to respond.

 

He tells Sebastian about his day and what Lily has been doing, and he tells him about current events. And when Sebastian tries to turn away or flushes pink with shame, Stefano reassures him that there is nothing to be embarrassed about, that Stefano is there to help him, and that they are going to get through this together.

 

He doesn’t exactly feel like he is lying about that last one, though his idea of how they are going to get through this has shifted significantly from what it used to be. He doesn’t try to explain this to Sebastian though.  Sebastian is on so much pain medication that he sometimes doesn’t even seem to recognize Stefano or Lily, so trying to discuss something like that would be out of the question.

 

Sometimes, he catches Sebastian gazing longingly at the bedside drawer.  He knows what is in there, and he knows that Sebastian is too weak to reach it himself any longer, would be too weak to lift it.  If Stefano was a stronger man, he would be able to do it for Sebastian.  He would be able to do him this one last favor, because he knows in his heart that is what Sebastian would want.  But he is weak, and he takes some comfort in seeing Sebastian every day, even if Sebastian is a faded, withered husk of the man he used to be.

 

 

 

_Why can’t you just die already?_

 

The words echo in his head every time he awakens in the night to the horrible, thick, wet breathing beside him.  He tries to shut it out, to think about something else, but it is all around him, and some dark, sick part of him hopes that maybe he will wake up one night and not hear it.

 

But he turns over and slips his hand into Sebastian’s or rests it on Sebastian’s shoulder, because that is about as much physical contact as Sebastian will tolerate now unless it is for some sort of medical purpose.  He gives Sebastian’s hand a squeeze and sometimes, if he is very lucky, he will get a little squeeze back.

 

He tries hard to keep things interesting for Sebastian.  He brings him downstairs to watch TV with him and Lily in the evenings and helps him sit by the window during the day or even out on the back porch if the weather is nice. He can’t tell if Sebastian enjoys any of this, because Sebastian responds to so little, seems so lost in his own head, but he keeps doing all of it anyway, because he doesn’t want Sebastian to feel like he is just waiting to die.  He doesn’t know if Sebastian feels anything anymore.

 

It hurts to see this once proud, capable man reduced to a ghost.  It hurts more to care for him day in and day out, wondering if he is making the right decisions, wondering if he is doing what Sebastian would have wanted. He fears he is not.

 

He can’t ask Lily to do any more than she already is.  She is still a child, and she shouldn’t have to see any of this, shouldn’t have to experience any of this.  She sits with Sebastian and talks to him, and sometimes he smiles a little when he sees her, but otherwise Stefano is on his own.

 

He is exhausted, and his limbs are heavy, and his heart is aching, but no one is ever going to tell him that he is doing a good job, that he is doing the right thing, least of all Sebastian.  And when it is all over, he and Lily will be alone, and he will always wonder whether he should have done something else, whether a stronger man than he would have made a different choice.  He will never know.

 

 

 

One day after Lily has left for school, he brings Sebastian downstairs to his favorite chair.  It isn’t difficult.  Sebastian hardly weighs anything anymore.  Once Sebastian seems to be comfortable, Stefano gets the newspaper and begins to read aloud.  He has almost made it through the front page, when he realizes that he can’t do this anymore.

 

Tears cloud his good eye and sting his bad one, and he sets down the newspaper and buries his face in his hands for a moment, because he can’t let Sebastian see him like this. He has to put on a smile for Sebastian, because Sebastian deserves that at least.

 

When he gets control of himself and raises his head, he can see that Sebastian’s eyes are brimming with tears as well.  He slides out of his chair, drops to his knees before Sebastian and presses his face to Sebastian’s leg.

 

_Why can’t you just die already?  I can’t watch you suffer anymore._

 

 

 


	31. Day 31- Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings- explicit language, canon typical violence

 

 

“It doesn’t have to end this way,” Sebastian says as the double doors swing shut behind him.  He has seen how Stefano was manipulated by Theodore, how Stefano was manipulated by Mobius, and he has seen firsthand the corruption that STEM can bring down upon even the most noble mind.  Sebastian is sure of one thing- there are no heroes in STEM and no villains.  There are only men.  
  
The man in front of him raises a red-gloved hand to his face, taps a finger against his chin.  “And what makes you think it could end any other way?” Stefano asks.  “We both want the Core, no?  And only one of us can have her in the end.”  
  
“I want my daughter,” Sebastian corrects him.  
  
“And your daughter is the Core,” Stefano replies.  “And I will have the power of the Core.  I must have the power of the Core to continue my work.”  
  
Sebastian has seen Stefano’s work all over Union, his twisted portfolio of fear and pain and death.  Sebastian doesn’t think it is art at all, but this isn’t the time to take up that point.  
  
“Core or not, she’s my daughter,” Sebastian insists.  “Surely you can understand how much she means to me.”  
  
“Oh, I intend to find out exactly how much she means to you,” Stefano says.  “I have heard many grand speeches and declarations in my time, but I find that almost all men fall short of the promises they make in the heat of passion.  Tell me, are you willing to lay down your life for your daughter?”  
  
“Yes,” Sebastian answers without a second thought.  There is no other answer.  
  
“Very good,” muses Stefano.  “This will be an interesting piece then.”  
  
Sebastian groans out loud, because even one more art metaphor is going to push him over the edge.  He almost laughed when he saw the exhibit placard outside this room with his name engraved on it.  He would have laughed if he hadn’t seen what happened to the other men who became part of Stefano’s gallery.  
  
That cannot be his fate.  That will not be his fate.  Lily needs him.  
  
“I’m not here to be your art,” he snaps.  
  
Stefano only smiles indulgently.  “Which is why you are the perfect medium.  You resist my attempts to manipulate you.  You hold your shape.  You will bring something of yourself to the finished product, even when you are lifeless in my hands.”  
  
Even now, even when Stefano is spouting these insane, flowery words, Sebastian sees the man, not the monster STEM has twisted him into.  Surely there is some of the man left inside him, something left for him to appeal to.  
  
“I can’t let that happen,” Sebastian replies.  “Stefano, she’s my daughter.  There must be someone in your life that you-”  
  
Stefano cuts him off with a bitter laugh.  “There is no one, Sebastian, no one at all.  I am quite alone.  There is no one who I would go to such great lengths to protect, which is why you are a most fascinating specimen.”  He narrows his eye at Sebastian, and Sebastian suddenly feels like an animal in the zoo, an insect under a microscope.  
  
“Let us perhaps think about this another way,” Stefano continues.  “Under what set of circumstances would you allow your daughter to remain as the Core, to remain with me?”  
  
“Never,” Sebastian shoots back.  “I would never let you have her.”  
  
“Then you know how I feel about my work,” Stefano replies with a raised eyebrow, as though daring Sebastian to question him.  “I would not give it up under any circumstances.”  
  
“And I’m sure as hell not giving you my daughter,” Sebastian snarls.  
  
“Then it seems we are at an impasse,” replies Stefano.  
  
Sebastian is already reaching for his crossbow, because they have wasted enough time already.  There is no more time for running or hiding or games or explanations, no more time for last ditch attempts to reason with Stefano or appeal to his better nature.  
  
Sebastian loads up a bolt, but Stefano is already flickering out of existence and phasing across the room, and before Sebastian can reacquire his target, Stefano is suddenly right in front of him, much too close.  Sebastian moves to swing the crossbow at him, to get him to back off, but Stefano’s knife is a blur in the air in front of him, biting into his shoulder as it sinks deeply into the muscle.  
  
He groans and staggers for a moment, because that is a substantial knife and the pain is intense, and then Stefano is jerking it out of him and stepping back, disappearing only to pop back into existence across the room.  
  
“Fuck,” Sebastian mutters, because he can do better than this.  He has to do better than this for Lily.  He spots Stefano pulling out his camera, and dashes out of the line of fire, because he has seen what that camera can do, how it incapacitates Stefano’s victims, making them easy subjects, raw materials for his art.  
  
As soon as he turns to check on Stefano’s location, Stefano is right in front of him again, swinging his knife in a wide arc and slashing Sebastian across the chest.  It isn’t a particularly deep wound, but it is long and it stings fiercely and it makes Stefano’s point.  If he wants Sebastian, he will have Sebastian.  
  
And so it goes, on and on for what seems like hours, until Sebastian is down on one knee on the floor, chest heaving from exertion, every muscle burning, and head bowed to collect himself for one more attempt.  
  
Stefano’s hand is on his shoulder.  “Give her to me,” he says, voice slow and hypnotic.  “Give her to me, and we can stop playing this game.”  
  
Sebastian raises his head slowly to meet Stefano’s eye.  “Never,” he forces out through gritted teeth.  
  
Stefano nods and raises his camera.  There is a flash of something in his eye that might be regret.

 

 

 


End file.
